


Transcendent

by stelliferous_sky



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allurance at the beginning, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Fluff, From Mid-Season 8, Hurt/Comfort, I just wanted Lotor back, Lance's Sword, M/M, Major Character Injury, Original paladins - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Quantum Abyss (Voltron), Rift Creatures - Freeform, Self-Indulgent, Time Shenanigans, Time Travel, endgame klance, i have no idea how to tag this, kosmo is a good boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-10-07 13:12:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17366489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelliferous_sky/pseuds/stelliferous_sky
Summary: "It's okay. I know you probably don't understand.""I understand, Lance. I know what it feels like to watch someone I love with another person." Keith can't look at him but he feels Lance's stare."What did you do?" Lance asks."I told myself that I'm happy as long as he's happy until it became true. I told myself that he deserves all the love in the world, even if it's not mine."*Lance knows there are more important things to worry about, like the fact that fabric of spacetime itself is falling apart and Honerva is god knows where, doing god knows what. But he can't shake away the feeling that Lotor's return means change is coming, about to hit closer to his heart than ever.Lucky for him, Keith is a great friend and leader and he'll always be there for Lance... Right?





	1. The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Is this self-indulgent? Hell yeah.  
> Is there a plot to this? Uhh... Yes.  
> Does it make sense? ...Maybe? (If you watch Doctor Who. Seriously. Warning for confusing science fiction explanations.)
> 
> While I have to admit that S8 wasn't GREAT like the other seasons, I don't think it was as terrible as a lot of people thought it was. I laughed, I cried and I thoroughly enjoyed watching it even if I did have small problems with plot holes and events that weren't really explained. 
> 
> That being said, this fic is not meant to be a fix-it fic. It's just a result of me not being able to cope with Allura's death, thirsting for Lotor's redemption arc and wanting my boys to kiss. That's literally it. I will try my hardest to give Lotor that redemption so if you're not a Lotor or a Lotura fan, this probably is not the best fic for you I'm afraid.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: This starts after Allura extracts the entity from Tavo but they don't end up at the Clear Day celebration, thus she doesn't let the thing inside her. 
> 
> MORE IMPORTANT NOTE: Don't do rift creatures, kids.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain prince shows up at Atlas's doorsteps.

  It happens steadily, hardly noticeable at first. With repairing the damage sustained from the battle at Oriande, dealing with Lotor’s return and recovering the Alteans from the Komar mechs, everyone is out of sorts that if they see someone in the hallways they hardly pay attention. There are too many things to be done to worry about someone not responding to brief greetings.

  Then things get weirder; strange readings on the spatial stabilizers and gravity generators, kids chasing invisible things around the Atlas and disappearing around corners when there aren’t meant to be children aboard at all, people having one sided-conversations with themselves, appearing out of nowhere or being in two places at once.

  Lance swears they’re being haunted by space ghosts.

  Keith smiles at this more fondly than he means to.

  Pidge rolls her eyes and reasons the impossibility of space ghosts.

  Allura suspects it might be the entity trapped aboard the ship.

  Everyone falls silent at that until Shiro clears his throat in an attempt to rein back the sudden onslaught of anxiety. “Whatever the case, we need to stay sharp and report anything amiss even if it seems irrelevant. We don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

  Lance comes out of the meeting feeling not at all assured, looking over his shoulders constantly and doesn’t dare walk into darker parts of the ship.

  With everything going on at the moment, the fate of the universe resting on their every move, this ‘haunting’ should be the last thing Lance worries about but he’s always believed in the paranormal. Veronica won’t stop teasing him (especially because he makes fun of Keith’s obsession with Mothman but that’s different, okay?) but he’s not taking any risks, thank you very much.

  Bayard in hand, Lance is making his way to the training deck to take his mind off the current Lotor, Honerva and entity situation when he sees Keith dressed in his Blade of Marmora suit, talking to Kolivan about a chain of quintessence supply lines.

  Dread seeps in like ice in his veins. “Keith. What are you doing?”

  In all honesty Lance should’ve realised way before he starts storming over that this Keith is missing the scar on his cheek, his hair is shorter and so is his height. But no. In a moment of sheer anger, Lance doesn’t even realise it when Keith doesn’t acknowledge his presence once. He’s one foot away from yanking on Keith’s arm and demanding explanations when-

  “Don’t touch them.”

  Lance jumps back with a shriek barely contained.

  Acxa stands at the mouth of the corridor, beads of sweat running down her temples, looking at Lance with that ever-stoic expression that could’ve given Keith a run for his money a few years ago. “They’re not real.”

  As soon as Lance turns back to Keith and Kolivan, the two Blades fade away like dissipating smoke. Now he shrieks and leaps away at the horrible, terrifying thought that he was about to _touch_ one of these things.

  “Holy Kaltenecker,” he breathes, staring at the empty spot where Keith and Kolivan stood seconds ago. “I could’ve died. Or worse.”

  “I don’t think they’re anything more than illusions,” Acxa says, walking past him right over the spot, much to Lance’s distress. Fearless woman. No wonder Keith became friends with her so quickly it was almost scary.

  “Yeah but I almost got flushed out into space by a haunted ship once. I’m not taking any chances.”

  Acxa pauses for a moment and turns around with a tiny, tiny smile on her lips, one of the rare few Lance has seen. According to Veronica, she’s apparently more emo than Keith, which Lance cannot fathom but alright.

  “Your sister was not exaggerating about your paranoia,” Acxa says.

  Without any other explanation, she goes off into the elevator before Lance understands her words. His sister is friends with Acxa now. She told her about him. Oh, god. This is why he refused to introduce her to Keith. She’d run her mouth and Keith would have way too much power over him.

  Lance shudders at the thought and thanks every god in existence that Keith and Veronica are busy with their own individual things to cross paths too often.

  He shakes away the cursed mental images and trudges on his way to the training room at the end of the corridor. The room is designed after the one on the Castle of Lions with minimal differences. The only thing Lance finds hilarious is probably the fact that in this particular training room, instead of a sleek and beautiful robot Gladiator to beat their asses, they have the robot Pidge and Matt built and dubbed ‘Chip 0.5’. It’s a creepy robot with signature “Holt” glasses and looks like it belongs in a horror movie.

  Chip 0.5 is an older design deemed too ugly by none other than Pidge herself so now it serves as the last thing anyone sees should they fail a level. It’s kind of nightmarish to be honest, with its too-wide eyes and teeth-baring grin. Lance and the other paladins use this room just for the giggles (and sometimes extra motivation) but everyone else stays the hell away and claims they don’t want PTSD.

  Keith is, of course, already inside. His black shirt is tight across his chest and soaked through with sweat, probably from sparring with Acxa. He doesn’t notice Lance come inside and keeps patting Kosmo’s head before he suddenly hurls his deactivated bayard across the room.

  Then he tries to shove Kosmo in the direction. “Come on, boy. Go get it.”

  Lance blinks. Is Keith...playing fetch with his _bayard_? What the fuck. “Are you kidding me? Dude, that is a very technologically advanced piece of weaponry. You can’t just go chucking it for your dog to fetch.”

  Keith turns and smiles, summoning the black bayard back into his hand. That will never stop being impressive no matter how many time Keith does it. “Wolf,” he corrects. “Kosmo never fetches sticks or toys so I thought throwing other things might work.”

  Kosmo wags his tails and pants excitedly as Lance approaches the pair, squatting down in front of Kosmo but the wolf is getting too big. A nuzzle sends Lance sprawled onto the floor with a majestic blue giant standing over him, pressing his nose into Lance’s chest.

  “Kosmo, please don’t sit- _oof._ ”

  Kosmo sits on him.

  Like always, Keith laughs and does nothing to get his pet off of Lance. Funnily enough, Kosmo only ever sits on Lance. It doesn’t feel much like the privilege that Keith claims it to be. It feels more like a sack of cement crushing his windpipes and squeezing his intestines like pastry bags.

  He grunts, “You wanna do something about this, Keith? You-” _wheeze_ – “kinda need me alive to form Voltron.”

  “He just wants your attention,” Keith says like Lance doesn’t play with Kosmo more than even Keith himself. Then he finally gets his wolf off, luring him off with a scratch behind the ear.

  Lance fills up his lungs with slightly musty air and releases it as he takes a moment to steady himself on the floor. Keith’s hand hovers above him and he takes it, letting himself be pulled up to his feet.

  “You ready?” Keith asks.

  “I guess. Did you have to train with Acxa right before me? I’m gonna look like a toddler playing ninja now.”

  “Acxa has been fighting for ten times longer than we’ve been alive. You’re doing pretty well for someone who’s only been using a sword for a few months.”

  Lance makes a face despite the swell of pride in his chest. “Hollow compliments. I can’t even beat you yet.”

  Keith considers for a moment, looking at his bayard. “Kosmo can help.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. You said it’s cool how I fight with Kosmo. Try it with him now. I’m tired from training with Acxa too so maybe you’ll beat me today.”

  “You mean teleport with him while I try to stab you with a sword. How do I even do that? How is Kosmo supposed to know where I want to go?”

  “Kosmo will know,” Keith promises with absolute certainty. Then he gestures around the room. “You just need to feel where you want to be.”

  Lance gives a sceptical look. “Just feel it.”

  “Just feel it. Close your eyes. Think about where you want to be. Imagine being there.”

  Kosmo looks up at Lance with big round eyes and cocks his head expectantly like he’s waiting for him to think of a place. Lance gives Keith one more look with narrowed eyes before he closes them. One breath in, one breath out, and Lance thinks of the corner of the room. He hears soft clicks of Kosmo’s nails against the floor as he approaches, feels the wolf’s heat radiate into his legs.

  “Ready?” Keith asks, sounding closer as well.

  “Sure.”

  Then the entire world folds in on itself, shades of gray twisting behind his eyelid, rapidly dissolving into a bright, blinding spectrum of colours. His legs give out the same way his stomach does, swooping and jellylike. He drops to his hands and knees, heaving and gagging with his lunch lodged in his throat, threatening to make its way to the floor. For a moment, the whole room spins.

  “Yeah,” Keith says, guilt colouring his voice. “I threw up the first time Kosmo teleported me.”

  Lance can’t even glare in the right direction because there are three of Keith all swaying in different directions. “ _You, son of a-_ ” He retches, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth.

  Kosmo gently nuzzles against his side and Keith is on the other, his hand hot between Lance’s shoulder blades, rubbing in a small, soothing circle.

  “Sorry.”

  _Sorry, my ass,_ Lance thinks.

  When the room finally stops spinning, Lance turns on Keith who’s trying and failing to hide a smile. He lunges, bayard out and aiming for Keith’s neck.

  But Keith is faster. His own sword comes out and blocks the attack, pushing him onto his back. Normally Lance wouldn’t be thrown so easily but the teleport still messes with his mind and body, lowering his defences. Keith takes advantage and pins Lance’s sword-wielding arm with his shin.

  Lance just gives up and falls limp, staring up at the mottled gray ceiling lined with hidden weaponry and simulation projectors.

  “Lance, come on,” Keith says, adding a hand to pin the wrist to the floor too. “Fight back.”

  _Fight back, he says as he pins me to the floor._ Lance looks at him, already exhausted. “You’ve pretty much disarmed me. I would be dead by now if this is a real fight.”

  Keith leans forward so that his face is right above Lance’s and he’s half sitting on his chest. “You have two hands, Lance. Use them. Bring your bayard to the other hand.”

  “I ca-”

  “Yes, you can.” Keith is determined. Gone is that smile, replaced with an unwavering stare that boils Lance’s blood, sets his heart thumping and fingers balling into fists. For so long Lance mistook this look as provocation and let it fuel his dislike for Keith. But he’s learnt that it’s a challenge for him to do better. A challenge for him to prove what Keith already believes.

  If Lance can summon a bayard at all, there’s no reason he can’t switch hands. If Keith could totally take the black bayard right from Shiro, there’s no reason Lance can’t manipulate his own one. So Lance steels himself, feels the energy thrumming into his quickly numbing arm, imagines his sword in his left hand, wills it to move there.

  It does. It’s easier than he thought.

  Keith smiles and but doesn’t relieve the pressure. “Good. Now get out of the hold.”

  Without warning, the black sword comes down in a terrifying slash. Lance blocks it just in time, more instinct than actual recognition that he was about to die.

  “Dude!” he yells at Keith, who grins through the exertion and pushes down harder.

  “Get out, Lance.” He adds a knee to the chest but he’s still clearly holding back. Otherwise Lance would be dead. And yet, Lance still struggles to keep Keith’s blade away from his face.

  He can’t kick Keith – he’s flexible but not that flexible, especially with air no longer going into his lungs. His vision starts to spot but Keith doesn’t let go. He never does. He goes easier on Lance, always, but never lets him off without Lance giving everything he has to give. Keith never lets Lance off if he can see a way out.

  “Lance, come on.”

  In a desperate moment before he starts choking, Lance thinks of Kosmo. Within a blink he’s on the other side of the spinning room, retching again and this time he tastes the sour bile at the back of his tongue.

  “Good job,” Keith’s voice comes, actually sounding pretty proud.

  “Bastard,” Lance wheezes, just lying on the ground spreadeagle style and letting his insides fall back into place. “I was about to pass out.”

  Keith comes over, bayard still active and Lance fears he’s going to try to skewer him again. But he doesn’t, thank God. Keith sits beside him, Kosmo trying to lie in his lap before giving up and settling for a head on his human’s legs.

  “If you think this is bad try training with my mum.”

  “Yeah, no thanks.” Keith knows his mum scares Lance. She’s an intimidating lady who can make Kolivan seem like nothing more than a grumpy grandpa complaining about his petunias. It’s not that Krolia has ever done anything to him or anyone else. According to Pidge and Hunk, she’s actually pretty fun to be around because she shares baby photos of Keith – much to his embarrassment – and tells amazing stories about places she’s been to. It’s just the fact that Lance really wants her approval and being around her increases his chances of fucking up.

  Yeah, he’s definitely not going to train with Krolia.

  “Did I hurt you?” Keith asks.

  “My right arm is still numb. I might have to cut it off and get a robot one like Shiro. Not floating though. No offence but it’s so ugly and weird. Like, you go to hug him and a part of his arm isn’t there.”

  Keith’s laughter echoes around the room. He does that a lot now, Lance has noticed. He laughs and smiles so easily when things have gotten a crap ton worse compared to when everything began, when Keith hardly ever smiled and took things way too seriously. It’s a change that sometimes smacks Lance so hard he needs a moment to take in the deep, rich laughter, the wide smile and crinkles around his bright eyes.

  So maybe Acxa _is_ more emo than him.

  “You should train with Kosmo more,” Keith says. “Get used to working with him. It’s better to have two people who can take advantage in fights.”

  Lance groans, dragging his hands down his face. “What if I hurt Kosmo by accident? You’re going to kill me.”

  “Only a little.”

  Lance rises to his elbows specifically to give Keith an unimpressed face. “That’s not funny.”

  Keith rolls his eyes, suppressing a smile, and kicks Lance’s leg. “Kosmo knows how to stay out of danger. Just train with him. Get used to teleporting.”

  Lance groans louder. “Romelle never said anything about wanting to throw up afterwards.”

  “Romelle?”

  “Yeah. Kosmo took her to Blue when Zethrid and Ezor’s fleet was chasing us back in the tunnel. Ages ago. She hasn’t told you?”

  Keith shakes his head with a slight grimace. “I try not to be stuck with her too much. She tries to braid my hair.”

  Lance perks. “One of these days, we’re gonna ambush you and make you pretty.”

  Keith pretends to gag. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

  “Says the guy who never leaves the training room. Do _you_ have nothing better to do?”

  “What do you do then, aside from conspiring against me?”

  “Shooting range with Veronica. Sometimes I’m with Allura, mostly trying to get her to relax a little bit.”

  Keith goes quiet and watches Lance with an unreadable expression. Concern? Confusion? Curiosity? Calculating? Hard to tell anything when Keith goes poker face. “Is she okay?”

  Lance thinks back to this morning when Allura was lining up in the cafeteria for breakfast, eyes distant even as Romelle talked to her. Her skin was darker beneath her eyes, meaning she probably didn’t get any sleep after she made him leave last night. He and Romelle had to call her name four times before she came back into the room.

  Lance sighs and falls onto the floor again, the deep unsettling ache returning to his chest. “No. I mean, she just found out what’s left of her people are possessed by demonic creatures under a psychopath’s control and another psychopath who broke her heart just tore through the rift back into reality. It’s hard to handle for anyone. I just... I just wish I could do more.” The last part comes out in a barely audible breath.

  “We all do,” Keith says softly. “We all want to do more to help her, help everyone. But, Lance, you have to take care of yourself too.”

  Lance raises an arm to wave a hand in dismissal and denial but apparently Keith reads minds now. He gets the word in with a pointed look before Lance even opens his mouth.

  “We all know you spend more time holed up in the shooting range than I stay in this room and you talked to two people yesterday. You need to take a step back, Lance. Voltron needs their sharpshooter in peak condition and _I_ need my co-leader to keep a clear mind when I can’t.”

  _Co-leader._ Keith uses that word a lot, like he isn’t the head of Voltron. Like he _and_ Lance are the head when everyone else only ever refers to Lance as second-in-command.

  “Alright,” Lance says. “Enough moping. Let’s get shit done.”

  No sooner than he hauls himself up to his feet, the siren wails.

  Shiro’s voice comes over the speakers, “Unidentified vessel approaching Atlas. Crew to battle stations. Paladins to your lions and hold position.”

  A shared glance and then they’re out the door, Kosmo on their tail.

  People flooded the corridors in an instant, running to take up positions, but they part ways as Keith and Lance drop out of the room and speed for the elevator. A familiar sense of pre-battle calm kicks in as he makes his way to the lions’ hanger, a routine carved into his very bones that his body runs on autopilot.

  Unidentified vessel could mean anything but at this point, it’s more likely to be hostile than friendly if their space experience is anything to go by. Lance changes into his armour in Red and he’s ready within two minutes just as the Allura, Hunk and Pidge arrive, bounding into their own lions.

  The wait is the worst. Shiro’s voice over the comms gives orders around the bridge and clamours answer him. Sometimes Lance forgets he’s not in Black anymore. Keith is and he’s making sure they’re all ready through the lions’ own transmission line.

  “Crew, brace for attack,” Shiro calls. “Vessel approaching in 3... 2...”

  Shiro never finishes and it’s Coran’s gasp that echoes around Red’s cockpit. “Is that an... Altean pod?”

  There’s no time to process the meaning behind the astonishment before-

 “ _Attention, paladins of Voltron_.”

  Lance goes ice cold at the sound of that voice, the one that haunts Allura’s nightmares. Blue’s head snaps in the direction of the hanger doors with a vicious growl, already on her feet and ready to burst out. Red responds but it’s an order to hold her ground.

  Lotor continues, “I have come to surrender.”

~

  Lotor is tied and cuffed to a chair in the interrogation room in nothing but his tunic and pants, stripped off his armour as soon as the pod touched down in a launch bay. Angry silver scars crawl across his purple skin like lightning, shining under the harsh white lights. Lotor holds himself like the self-assured emperor he once was, staring down the MFE pilots him at gunpoint.

  Keith watches through the one-way glass from the viewing room, trying to sort through his thoughts on this whole thing. Lotor is alive and back. He knew that. And yet it’s entirely different to be seeing in person than it is to simply know.

  There’s an undercurrent of fury simmering beneath his skin but the main reason for that is far less important than the real reason Keith should be angry.

  A small body sidles up to him. “Allura won’t come with us to question him.”

  Keith hums but he already knew that. She’d violently protested against keeping Lotor aboard the Atlas, so much so that she’d faulted her father in a fit of rage.

  Coran was only trying to make her see reason. He’d told her, “One of the reasons your father was well-liked among the people is because he believed in second chances.”

  And Allura had snapped, “He gave Zarkon a second chance and look where it got him.”

  But Shiro had to follow protocol. He can’t do anything to Lotor without proper questioning, which Allura finally relented to in part resignation and part embarrassment for her outburst.

  Keith asks Pidge, “What exactly happened between them?” He has a rough idea but he hasn’t wanted to know exactly how far Lotor and Allura’s involvement went. Until now.

  “I think Allura might’ve fallen in love with him and, well, it kind of looked like Lotor loved her too but turns out he’s just a really great actor. He promised peace and used her alchemy skills to get what he wanted.”

  And Lance was casualty in this tragedy.

  The others start to arrive one by one. Lance lingers near the back of the group, uncharacteristically quiet as he watches Allura talk to Coran and Romelle. The worry radiate from him in waves and washes over Keith. But Shiro is already ushering them into their positions before Keith can talk to Lance, before he can reassure him that Lotor’s return means nothing.

  Allura and Romelle stay in the viewing room while the rest of them enter the adjacent one. That feeling hits Keith again, that feeling of instability like a cup too full, ready to spill over. Lotor’s presence always felt as if space itself folds around his very being like magnetic fields but it’s stronger now. The push and the pull rhythm around him seems fragile, the balance easily tipped.

  Whatever happened in the quintessence field has changed him.

  Lotor looks at everyone around the room like _he’s_ the one doing the interrogation. He isn’t even smirking but Keith still wants to slap his eyes out of his skull. Next to him, Lance simmers with disdain evident in the white-knuckled grip he has on his bayard so Keith reigns in his emotions. At least one of them needs to be the anchor and right now, it has to be Keith.

  Shiro puts both his hands on the table and begins. “What do you want, Lotor?”

  “I want to help you destroy Haggar.”

  “Why should we believe anything you say?” Lance barks.

  This time, Lotor’s eyes seem to really focus on Lance and his gaze lingers like he knows he didn’t just play with Allura’s feelings. He tries to look like he has enough decency to be sorry about it but Keith just really wants to scoop his eyes out.

  “I know our past few encounters had not been pleasant and I deeply regret my actions that have cost a commendable alliance-”

  “Save the bullshit.”

  Lotor blinks in surprise. Keith revels at the sight.

  “Lance,” Shiro says softly, and then gestures for Lotor to continue.

  “I do not ask for forgiveness. I know what I did in my madness is unforgivable. I only ask for you to let me show my true intentions.”

  “True intentions for what?” Hunk asks.

  “With the colony beyond the abyss.”

  Right. The reason Keith _should_ mainly be pissed about.

  Coran has frozen in the corner even though they’d all prepared for this issue to come up. Allura and Romelle would probably have the same reaction in the other room.

  When Lotor keeps talking after that pause (overdramatic bastard), it’s a sudden reminder that this is happening. This is real. This is not just some insane nightmare where they’re actually letting a psychopath explain his reasons for committing genocide.

   _Oh, wait._

  “I will not deny that I have carried out actions that may have appeared to be atrocities.” His voice is starting to waver in what could be mistaken for desperation had Keith not been wanting to flush him out an airlock. “But those I harvested quintessence from, I had every intention to replenish them with the quintessence I – _we_ gain from accessing the field.”

  “Right,” Pidge says, sarcasm thick.

  “It is true,” Lotor insists. He turns to Keith. “You have been to the colony. You have seen the facility on the moon and evidence of my work. If I had no plans to replenish their quintessence, why would I incriminate myself by preserving them? Those Alteans are alive.”

  “Barely,” Keith says lowly. They are no more than skin on bones, hooked up to the pods and barely breathing. He didn’t know if they were conscious, if they were aware of what had been done to them. He hadn’t wanted to consider that their eyes could’ve been following them, begging them.

  “But alive nonetheless. I have put them in a state of painless coma.”

  “The colony is gone. We’ve sent scouts but there’s nothing left of it or the facility.”

  Lotor shakes his head. “I have designed the facility to only be accessible by an Altean descent. You were only able to access it because you were accompanied by one. Proof of everything I am saying is just beyond the quantum abyss.”

  Hunk puts his hands on his hips and gives a look. “So what? You want us to go look for it?”

  “If that is what it takes to regain your trust.”

    “We’ll put that under consideration,” Shiro says in a tone that means he’s not considering this. “How did you survive the quintessence field?”

  Lotor doesn’t look happy about the change in topics and for a second Keith worries the balance is tipped, ready to activate his bayard. But Lotor answers, “Quintessence reveals the truth and-”

  “Yeah, we know,” Lance sneers. “Last time we saw you in there, you were insane and trying to kill us. Which sounds about right actually, considering your _parents_ ,” he spits out the words viciously, “went batshit crazy too. Question is, why aren’t you like them now?”

  Lotor levels a cool gaze at him. “I understand your anger and hostility, Paladin, but if I may explain without interruption you might find that it benefits you too.”

  Lance’s eyes narrow, an expression so unfamiliar on his face that Keith almost lets his guard slip. He places a hand on Lance’s shoulder and feels a bit of the tightness become undone beneath his palm.

  _Are you okay?_ Keith asks with his eyes.

  _Yeah._

  “The truth is not black or white,” Lotor continues, his eyes still on Lance. “The initial loss of my rationality derives from my strong desires for peace and stability across the universe, the desire for a safe world for my people. I admit it blinded me just as Zarkon’s desire to save my mother blinded him.

  “But the longer I spent in the field, the more I was able to see past the rage and hatred for myself, my heritage and those who have wronged me. I embraced those parts of me but I realised they are not all of me. My intentions of creating a better world lie true even if my actions said otherwise.”

  Hunk raises an eyebrow. “So what, you had an epiphany in the quintessence field?”

  “True strength lies in the ability to conquer darkness within. That is what I did.”

  It sounds like a load of delusional, psychobabble bullshit you see in movies but Keith begrudgingly considers it. Here he is, out in space further than he ever dreamed of, a lot younger than he thought he would be. Aliens exist. He’s flown two magical mechanical lions. Alchemy is a thing. So he files that information under: Sounds Fake (But Maybe).

  Lotor sighs and leans forward on his chair as far as his bindings allow. “I know I will not convince you now and perhaps not ever. But I ask that you let me begin to make up even for a fraction of the terrible things I have done. Reality as we know it is fraying at the edges due to Haggar tearing it apart to retrieve me from the quintessence field. If there is anything at all I can-”

  “Wait,” Pidge says, suddenly alert. “What do you mean reality is fraying?”

  “You have not noticed the time spillage?”

  Keith sees the dots connecting in her mind as she gasps, “Time spillage! That’s what this is.”

  “What’s time spillage?” Shiro asks.

  Pidge comes alive as she throws herself into an explanation but for once, it doesn’t look good. “When Haggar forced the fabric of this reality to open, it didn’t just tear that particular area. It created fractures in the space-time itself so now time is bleeding through. It’s like when you’re listening to the radio and you get static interference from other stations. We start seeing things from the past and the future.”

  “Like in the abyss,” Keith provides but it falls on deaf ears, except Lotor’s. His eyes land on Keith’s and holds his gaze like he’s initiating some sort of challenge. Keith breaks the gaze.

  “Oh, yes!” says Coran, a finger in the air. “That explains why I thought I saw my nieces and nephews the other day. I thought I was going space mad!”

  Hunk squeaks. “Wait. Curtis and Veronica said they were just playing a prank on the crew! Is that- Is that not what’s happening?”

  Keith pats his back sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Hunk. They told you that because you don’t like ghosts and they didn’t want you to freak out before Slav figured out what’s happening.”

  “ _GHOSTS_?” Hunk says incredulously, getting right up in Keith’s face. “Ghosts are nothing, man. This is way worse! Coran, we’re talking about like the end of the universe, aren’t we?”

  Lotor answers instead. “Yes and it is worsening. That is why we must do something quickly and I want to help.”

  Hunk slams his hands on the table, startling even Shiro. “Hang on a tick, buddy. Why are you even here and not with your mummy? Isn’t she Honerva again or something now?”

  Now Lotor’s face truly darkens and he hisses, “She may wear my mother’s skin and take her name but you and I both know she is nothing but a witch hell-bent on destroying everything good and pure.”

  “What?” says Pidge. “I thought she just wanted you back. Why is she still destroying everything?”

  “She wants something that had never been a possibility. She planned to retrieve me and my Sincline ships and cross through to a reality where Zarkon lives, pretending to be family we never could be.”

  Lance frowns. “Is that even possible?”

  Coran does some calculations in his head, muttering to himself, “To permanently remove a constant from a reality and create another in a different universe... That would throw all of existence out of balance.” Coran looks up gravely. “It would destroy every other reality.”

  Lotor says, “I self-destructed my Sincline to keep it out of her hands but now she will come after Voltron.”

  “ _What_?” Lance shrieks. “Why didn’t you just bring your ship instead of blowing it up?”

  “The ship does not move without the witch’s will. It has been falling under her control from the moment she extracted it from the field. Bringing it here would only have put your lives in danger and leaving it with her was not an option.”

  “What about the other Alteans?” Coran asks. “They worship you like a god. Did they not side with you?”

  “They _cannot_ side with me. Haggar has them all on a leash using creatures from the rift.”

  “We know,” Shiro says. “Is there one in you?”

  “If there was one in me, I would not be alive right now.”

  In a moment of extreme immaturity Keith almost quips, _Would you like one in you?_ Lance might appreciate it but it’s not fit for the leader of Voltron.

  Shiro ignores Lotor’s smartass response. “How is she able to control the creatures?”

  “From the research my mother conducted on Daibazaal, it appears that small entities can be tamed. She did not succeed in completely manipulating the creature but she found that it could be influenced in small ways as a babe’s eyes might follow an object but you cannot keep its attention indefinitely. Perhaps she has learnt how.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “I left her in the Delta Leporis system four quintents ago, just outside where the White Hole was. But with her ability to wormhole, she could be anymore by now. She has suffered the loss of six of Komar mechs but more are in the process of being built. Those who are truly loyal to her have been granted knowledge of Altean alchemy that even Princess Allura had to sacrifice much for.”

  “What else do you know?” Shiro asks.

  “I cannot tell for certain. Only Princess Allura passed the Guardian’s test but even she has much to discover for herself. Haggar, however, has forced the extensive knowledge out of the Sages of Oriande. There is no telling what she is capable of. But make no mistake, Paladins. She is coming stronger than before.”

  Shiro takes a step back from the table and looks at each of them to see if they have any more questions. Pidge looks like she just really needs to be somewhere else very quickly, Hunk is more worried than usual, Coran eyes the glass pane like he can see Allura and Romelle behind it and Lance has calmed a little. Keith shakes his head at Shiro, ignoring Lotor’s eyes on him.

  “Alright,” Shiro announces. “We’re done for now. MFE squad, escort the prisoner back to his cell. You have permission to take lethal action if necessary.”

  With that, Coran leads the way out, Lance last to leave the room.

  Before he’s fully out the door, Lotor calls, “Tell Allura I’m sorry.”

  For a moment, it sounds almost sincere.

  Keith sees Lance freeze in his step and give Lotor a long, steeled look. He says nothing as he turns his back on Lotor and steps out of the room. Everyone watches Lance dissipate his bayard and wordless make his way to the viewing room.

~

  “Oh, of course!” Slav shouts in excitement. “Why didn’t I think of this earlier? It makes so much sense.” Then his face falls and he turns to Sam in horror. “Oh, no. Please tell me you are wearing green socks.”

  “What, no. Of course not. What do my socks have to do with time breaking apart?”

  “EVERYTHING!” Then Slav launches into yet another ramble about his statistical probability that has Shiro all but banging his head on the table and Sam looks about ready to strangle Slav.

  It’s been a long day. Keith pinches the bridge of his nose, a few seconds away from totally losing it. “Alright,” he says loudly over the rant. “The Garrison doesn’t issue green socks so if you want us to wear them, knit them yourself. Right now we need to figure out our next step.”

  “Right,” Shiro agrees, visibly relieved that Slav has stopped talking. “If Lotor is to be believed, we have the option of letting her find us or we can find her first before she has the chance to rebuild her robeasts.”

  Veronica points out, “But that also means going into battle without our full arsenal. The repairs to our weapon and shielding systems are incomplete, still running at fifty-six percent. The wormhole generator still needs to be tested and two of the MFE fighters are currently out of commission. We expect at least six more quintents before we’re ready to see battle.”

  “Not to mention we need to do something about space-time collapse,” Pidge adds. “We were able to fix the tears Lotor made by using the infinite mass of the Castle’s engine but it was in a concentrated area. Fixing time fractures all across the universe...”

  Shiro purses his lips. “Slav, is there any way to calculate how much time we have before total collapse?”

  “Of course there is. What do you take me for? An amateur? Give me a couple of hours and purple crayons. Also, who here knows how to knit?”

  Unprofessional groans pass around the table.

  “Keith,” Allura begins, quiet and tentative. She’s been near silent since the interrogation, mostly lost in her own thoughts. “You said that time collapses in the quantum abyss and you were able to see glimpses of the past and the future. Yet, the abyss remains stable. Perhaps if we find a way to mimic the process, we can at least slow down the destruction. Give us more time to figure things out.”

  Lance adds, “Maybe we should find the facility on the moon.”

  Allura looks at him in surprise but Lance’s eyes are on Keith, begging him to agree. Lance shouldn’t make those eyes at him like this. It’s not fair. Keith loses the ability to say no when Lance does that. Actually, he never was able to but it’s worse now. A tightness expands in his chest, clogging up his throat.

  “But isn’t that really dangerous?” Hunk asks. “Like, one wrong move and we’re stuck for ten years or something.”

  Lance reasons, “I just thought that if there really is a facility like Lotor says, maybe we can actually start to believe _some_ of what he’s saying. I don’t like that we have to work on information he’s giving us and for all we know he could be lying about everything through his teeth.”

  But everyone in the room hears the other reason Lance isn’t saying.

  “But...” Pidge trails. “Do we have time for that?”

  Eyes fall on Keith and Shiro.

  This is exactly what Lotor wants and to give it to him... Is madness. But Allura has a point.

  Keith sighs internally. “The last time Krolia and I went, we weren’t prepared or equipped properly. That’s why it took two years hitching a ride on the back of a whale. The Marmora scout team only took four quintents to reach the planet and come out but only one quintent has passed outside the abyss.”

  Slav perks up. “Actually, that is a great idea. I can do real-time simulations while we are crossing the quantum abyss.”

  “And,” Veronica says, “that will reduce repairing time to three quintents.”

  Shiro considers this with a knot between his eyebrows, looking to Sam and Iverson, clearly disgruntled. The two men nod in agreement despite uncertain looks from both of them.

  “Very well,” Shiro says and then addresses the two Galra standing to the side of the room. “Krolia and Kolivan, I would like you and the Blades to give me a full report of your trip through the abyss and what you uncovered. Keith, you’re welcome to join us. Slav, I’m putting you in charge of finding a way to stop space-time collapse and give me an estimated time of event as soon as possible. Meeting adjourned.”

   The others file out of the room, talking quietly to each other. Lance stays behind, waits for Shiro to be engaged in a conversation with Krolia and Kolivan, and then he round the table to approach Keith, which sends a lurch in his heart.

  “Thanks, man,” Lance says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck with the other hand in his pocket. “Allura didn’t say anything to me but I knew she wanted to see the facility. I thought I should ask for her, you know?”

  Keith nods and offers a small smile. “You’re a great guy, Lance.”

  Lance returns a lob-sided smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Then he’s trudging outside.

  From the other side of the room, Shiro and Krolia give him tight-lipped smiles of sympathy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this first chapter because I'm sick of looking at it now. Next chapter, they go into the abyss and things get a little more interesting.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! As always, kudos and comments are very very much appreciated.  
> You can stalk me on Tumblr at [hano-does-fandoms](https://hano-does-fandoms.tumblr.com)


	2. Into the Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey into the Quantum Abyss is not as smooth as people would prefer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chucks the chapter at you* Take it. I can't look at this eyesore anymore.
> 
> Also: a crapton of foreshadowing ahead.

  When Lance was at the Garrison, there was this girl named Jenny Evans. Actually, Jenny Evans is still alive on Earth but that’s beside the point. The point is, Jenny was beautiful with thick black hair, dark eyes framed by pretty lashes and a smile like Aphrodite’s. Jenny was also dangerous, a side effect that came with knowing oneself to be unreasonably beautiful. She left a trail of shattered hearts behind her as she levitated over tears of unfortunate boys.

  And Lance? Oh, he chased after her anyway.

  The Quantum Abyss is like Jenny Evans; beautiful and dangerous. Only difference between the two is that Lance doesn’t want anything to do with the Quantum Abyss.

  The Atlas hovers just beyond the horizon in an eerie state of suspension, overlooking majestic celestial bodies against a turquoise nebula that glitters with distant stars. That’s the beautiful part. The dangerous part is the minefield of remains from ships that slipped off course and the smaller planets stretching into long tails like comets encircling a brilliant source of light in a slow cosmic dance that Lance does _not_ want to get caught up in.

  The entire bridge is quiet in trepidation until Shiro exhales through his mouth.

  He asks, “Keith, are we sure about this?”

  Which is exactly what Lance was thinking.

  Keith remains silent, looking out the window like he’s seeing an old enemy again. His fingers are doing the thing he does when he’s nervous; thumb and forefinger rubbing against each other subconsciously. The designated hot-head of the team hesitates before diving headfirst into danger. It’s really not reassuring.

  Keith finally turns to give Shiro a tight-lipped smile and nods. “It’s not going to be easy but right now it’s our best chance. We just have to stay on the course Kolivan has mapped out and be mentally prepared for things we might see in there.”

  “Okay,” Hunk says, looking between Keith and Shiro. “But we’re not going to come out traumatised, right? We still need to defeat Honerva and I don’t know about you guys but I kind of want my mind fully functioning for that.”

  “We’ll be okay,” Keith says.

  “Yeah, Hunk,” Lance agrees even though he’s really not sure. “We’ve been through worse.”

  “That we have,” Shiro murmurs, looking out the window distantly.

  For a moment, his facade slips and exhaustion shines through in the way he watches the Abyss warily, a shockingly real reminder of everything he holds on his shoulders. But he composes himself quickly, straightening his shoulders in mustered determination Lance has always admired.

  “Commander Iverson, take us in.” Shiro turns to his right and pauses for a moment. “Curtis, keep a constant monitor on the ship’s course. We’re counting on you, buddy.”

  Lance swears Shiro’s eyes lingers on the navigation officer a tad longer than necessary and his voice is softer by a barely noticeable notch. Lance scrutinises the actions, narrowing his eyes but then he blames it on exhaustion. It must be. He turns back to the window.

  The Atlas starts drifting again, cruising towards the beautiful region of death traps.

  And so it begins.

~

  Three hours in and Lance is starting to understand Keith’s reservations about going into this place. So far there have been two flashes, both memories of people he’s seen around the ship but doesn’t know personally. One of them lost a mother and the other was once kidnapped. Discomfort buzzes in the air like a swarm of flies. It’s a huge reality check for everyone, putting them all on constant edge hoping the next flash wouldn’t be theirs, on display for everyone to see.

  Lance suddenly feels like he has a lot to hide.

  The time-slipped people in the corridors don’t help either. He’s fought in an intergalactic war for almost three years and yet everything about this current situation on the Atlas is the most nerve-wrecking thing he’s ever experienced.

  That’s partly one of the reasons he cuts his training short in the shooting range to search for someone to make this entire thing seem a bit more normal. Lance passes Slav screaming something about purple crayons as he looks for Allura who’s slipped off after entering the Abyss (they really need to come up with another name). He catches her just as she comes out of her room in full Garrison uniform despite duty time ending a couple of hours ago, delicately holding a pot with a juniberry flower.

  “Allura.”

  She looks up and says, “Oh. Lance,” like she’s been caught sneaking out.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  “I’m going pay the Alteans a visit. I promised I’ll tell them about the golden xovarks of northern Altea and I thought Evlyn might appreciate the juniberry. She seems to like flowers.”

  Lance smiles. “I’m really glad they’re warming up to you.” It hasn’t been easy on Allura and Coran, initially met with more scepticism than enthusiasm. But a few recounts of their long lost home and Hunk’s ‘authentic’ Altean desserts did wonders for bonding moments. “You’re going to win their hearts over in no time at all, just like you won mine.”

  Despite the utter cheesiness of it all, a blush spreads across her cheeks as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think they’ve won mine too. And I cannot thank you enough, Lance, for asking to cross the Quantum Abyss on my behalf.”

  “I once said I would cross the universe for you. I still stand by that, Allura.” Lance rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, not sure how to proceed. “I’m just... I’m worried about you. Are you sure you want to see the facility?”

  The implication of seeing those Alteans didn’t really hit him until after that meeting when Keith’s words finally wormed their way through. Barely alive, he said. Suddenly, going in didn’t seem as great as it did before. He’s not even sure why Keith agreed, considering he shut down the idea before they found Olkarion.

  Allura doesn’t hesitate to answer, “I do. If there is anything at all I can do for them, I must try.” She pauses. “That is also one of the reasons I’m going to see the Alteans. I thought perhaps I should ask them about Lotor. I know Romelle is distrustful of him, much like I am, but maybe we should hear another opinion.”

  His chest tightens. Lance takes her free hand in his, holding it between them as if it would be a bridge for his thoughts to cross over. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Allura gently slips her hands out with a soft smile. “It’s okay, Lance. Romelle will meet me there. Go enjoy your break.”

  With that, she presses a quick kiss on his cheek and walks off.

  The tightness of his chest doesn’t ebb. Lance chases after her, taking her wrist. “Allura, I-” He what? He doesn’t even know what he meant to say. She watches him expectantly. “Don’t forget to take a step back once in a while, okay? You’ve been pushing yourself a lot lately.”

  Allura’s smile is strained and tight-lipped. “Thank you, Lance. I promise I won’t overexert myself. Maybe we can watch the stars together later?”

  Lance presses a kiss to the crown of her head. “That sounds great.”

  Then he watches her walk away, the uneasiness fully settling in his chest that he does his best to ignore. He assures himself that he worries for nothing. Allura wouldn’t leave him.

  Once she disappears behind the elevator doors, Lance exhales deeply, pushing the anxiety out along with the air. _If she’s going out with you, it’s because she likes you._ It really grinds Lance’s bones to admit that Keith is right but the guy usually is. He’s probably right about this too and Lance is just being ridiculous.

  With that thought, he busies himself with finding someone else to pester.

  It’s a familiar rhythm, ducking in and out of rooms in search of things to occupy his time with. He spent more than half his time aboard the Castle of Lions wandering the hallways that never seem to end. It’s a labyrinth that took him weeks to memorise commonly used hallways and even more to explore mostly abandoned rooms with Hunk or Pidge because there was no way he was going around an ancient castle on his own.

  The Atlas is simpler. It’s military, designed for battle, less amazing but practical and efficient. There’s the bridge, training deck, engine room, hangers, infirmary, crew quarters, weapons systems units, storage, kitchen and everything else in their own sections. Actually, it’s kind of boring when he thinks about it. No ballrooms, no upside-down pools, no nursery or ancient Hall of Fame with holograms with Allura’s ancestors whose eyes followed you judgementally.

  Lance focuses on all the differences as he searches for another place to be.

  Next destination was either his room or the kitchen where Hunk would most likely be stress baking, much to the chefs’ frustration. They’d long since stopped kicking him out after figuring out that it’s either Hunk cooks or Hunk plays around with blenders, grinders and knives with Keith occasionally joining in. Nobody wants that.

  Lance makes his way to the cafeteria, carefully avoiding an eerie person on the way who he swears is floating above the ground. When the doors open, Lance comes face to face with...something.

    Rizavi is making dramatic commentary as a camera drone flies over a loud, overcrowded table, earning stink eyes from people still milling around at the other tables. There’s Coran, standing on the seats, peering at a bunch of cards in his hands with crazed eyes; Griffin who looks like he’s just lost his whole life’s savings; Acxa who looks completely lost while Veronica looks over her shoulder; Pidge who grins like an evil gremlin while chanting _GET HIM GET HIM GET HIM_ ; Leifsdottir putting down a card on the table with a glint in her eyes; Curtis hissing under his breath as he watches; Kinkade who looks done with everything; and Hunk who holds a bowl in one hand and waving a spatula around as he hollers ineligible noises, splattering batter everywhere.

  Keith stands off to the side, arms folded across his chest as he smiles at whatever is going on.

  “ _Oh, ho ho ho!_ ” Coran cries. “Trying to gang up on me like a convuldrum of Balmeras, are ya? It takes more than a troupe of the emperor’s elite soldiers to take down Coran Hieronymous Wimbleton Smythe! _Hiiiiiya!_ ”

  With that, he slaps down a card that makes Griffin wail and faceplant on the table. Leifsdottir pats his shoulder apathetically while Acxa judges him really hard with her nose scrunched up and Kinkade asks what a convuldrum of Balmera is (which Lance feels is a mistake).

  No one notices him come in. They just continue yelling over the top of each other, calling bullshits and cheats while Coran tries to explain that a convuldrum is when Balmeras gather for some rejuvenation ceremony or something.

  Lance is almost afraid to ask but he sidles up to Keith and asks anyway. “What’s going on?”

  Keith’s face lights up even more, if that’s even possible, when he sees Lance. “Griffin thought it’d be a good idea to teach Coran and Acxa how to play a card game.”

  Lance looks at Griffin, face still in the table. “I take that it that he lost.”

  “Big time.”

  Griffin turns slightly to glare at them and goes back to wallowing in self-pity while the game clearly continues without him.

  “What are they playing?”

  Keith shrugs. “I’m as confused as Acxa.”

  Acxa indeed does look confused. She frowns at her cards like she’s reading one of Pidge’s midnight innovation ideas that even she can’t make sense of in the morning. Lance has a feeling he made the right decision coming here.

  “Wanna join, McClain?” Rizavi calls, zooming the camera right up to his face.

  He pushes it away. “What is it?”

  She whips out a pamphlet from God knows where and hands it to him. “Roundtable. These are the instructions and rules.”

  Lance eyes the pamphlet gingerly. It’s nowhere near as big as that book for Monsters and Mana but it still means reading and processing new information, neither of which he’s in the mood for. He pushes the paper away too. “No, thanks. I’ll just watch them suffer.”

  “Good idea,” Keith whispers as he leans in closer, pointing at Griffin.

  Somehow even with his face in the table, the guy flips Keith the bird.

  Lance can’t help but chuckle. Once you get past the stuck-up jerk exterior, Griffin isn’t actually a bad guy to be around. He’s almost fun. Not to mention he’s about the only other person who teases Keith as much as Lance, which is always a fun sight even if it can get scary when Griffin pushes the wrong buttons once in a while. Still, Keith hasn’t socked him in the face (again) yet so it’s all good.

  “We played a game back on the Castle once,” Lance tells Keith. “It’s like Killbot Phantasm but better.”

  “Is not!” Pidge yells from across the table then goes straight back to helping Veronica explain cards to Acxa.

  “I’ve never played Killbot Phantasm,” Keith says. “Or any video games.”

  Lance’s jaw drops in horror. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  Keith shakes his head. “I’m not. My dad and I usually played with each other so I never needed video games with him and the children’s homes didn’t provide them.”

  It’s jarring to remember that Keith grew up half of his life without a proper family, without all the privileges Lance took for granted, especially because Keith never really talks about his life. The fact that he shares this sort of information feels like it’s some sort of honour bestowed upon him.

  Lance declares, “Well, we’re going to change that. Keith Kogane, I am going to take away your video game virginity.”

  At this exact moment, everyone chooses to stop talking and Lance’s voice rises above the sudden quiet around the table. They all stare at him, even Griffin.

  “No,” Hunk says seriously. “No, Lance. Do not say something like that again.”

  Keith grumbles, “Yeah, it’s weird,” without meeting his eyes.

  Lance’s face starts going hot. “What? No! That’s- No! You can’t just listen to half a conversation and judge me like that. What about the fact that this kid has never played a game in his life? Huh?”

  Curtis mumbles under his breath, “Isn’t he older than you?”

  Veronica adds with a smirk, “Older and _taller._ ”

  “That’s not the point! We need to get his hands on some controllers stat.”

  “I brought Killbot Phantasm 25,” Rizavi says. “It’s in the common room.”

  Pidge squeaks. “ _Do not_ go in there. Matt and N-7 are playing.”

  Everyone winces, including Lance.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Keith asks like the poor clueless child he is.

  Lance puts a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. “Remember back on Arus how we had a food fight against Allura and Coran and it got really messy and aggressive?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Ah, those were fun times,” Coran chimes in.

  “Matt and his girlfriend playing games is like that but worse.”

  Pidge shudders. “They’re like you two when you start bickering about pointless shit like moving the milk bottle to the bottom shelf in the fridge.”

  Hunk adds, “Excepts they’ll probably end up making out on the couch.”

  Keith frowns and starts, “Matt wouldn’t-” before he stops as he sees Pidge’s pointed look. “Okay, yeah.”

    Those two are disgustingly cute and even Keith’s dark emo heart can see that. There’s just the fact that no one really wants to ask Matt if N-7 is actually a droid or she just has a computer in her brain. It doesn’t seem appropriate, even to Lance.

  Much to his relief, everyone starts to drift back to the unfinished game, organising cards spread out on the table and throwing themselves where they left off.

  “Next time we get spare time, we’re gonna hog the console,” Lance promises. “I am going to teach you what you’ve been missing out on.”

  Keith smirks. “I bet I can still beat you in the game.”

  Lance rolls his eyes. “No, you noob. We’re meant to work as a team to defeat forces of evil and shit.” He squints at Keith. “Are you just constantly thinking of one-upping me?”

  “Says the guy trying to stand on his toes so he can be taller than me.”

  Damn it, he noticed. Lance stops subtly trying to rise to the balls of his feet and slouches again, cursing the one inch that feels like six. One day, Lance is going to get this second growth spurt and he’s going to rise over Keith again like a flag pole. He swears it. “Whatever, Keith. You can’t beat me anyway even if you-”

  A flash of light cuts him off and makes everyone else squeal and jump in surprise as Kosmo and Bae Bae drops right on the table, sending the cards flying off. The two look incredibly proud of their work, huffing excitedly as Bae Bae runs around on the table and Kosmo falls off the side because he’s too big, crushing Rizavi under him.

  “Nadia!”

  “Bae Bae!”

  “Kosmo!”

  “Keith! Get your dog off me!”

  “Wolf,” Keith corrects. “Come on, Kosmo.”

  He looks at his owner, ears perked, but he doesn’t go to Keith. Lucky for Rizavi though, Kosmo does get off her pretty quickly, aiming for Hunk instead. Pidge is trying to get her dog off the table but Bae Bae sneakily avoids her grabby hands and jumps off, also bounding towards Hunk and his spatula.

  Hunk screams, raising the bowl and spatula high in to the air as if he hasn’t already lost enough batter to make half the batch. “No, no, no. Not again, Bae Bae. This isn’t for you.”

  But neither canine attacks Hunk’s batter. Instead, they drop little glassy pebbles at Hunk’s feet and sit with their tails proudly thwapping against the floor. The game is well and truly forgotten as they all coo at the big wolf and the little dog.

  Lance, though, peers at the pebbles on the floor. “Wait. Aren’t they from the horticultural sector? Colleen’s been complaining about hydro-suction pebbles going missing from the juniberry tank.”

  Hunk’s eyes fly wide. “That’s where they’re getting these from? They’ve brought me enough to fill a flour bag.”

  “Mum’s gonna be so mad at you, Bae Bae,” Pidge says.

  No sooner than Pidge finishes speaking, another flash of light fills the entire room, whiter and brighter than before.

  This time, the whiteness stays.

~

  _“Maybe he’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t go on the mission. You’ll only be putting yourself at risk.”_

_“You know how important this is to me. It’s worth the risk.”_

_Adam’s cup clinks against the plate, its contents spilling over the sides. “Takashi, how important am_ I _to you?” His voice is strained, clipped. His eyes are closed, eyebrows knitted. “Every mission, every drill, I’ve been right there with you. But this is more than a mission. This is your life at stake.”_

_Shiro huffs in exasperation. “Don’t start that again, Adam. You don’t need to protect me. This is something I need to do for myself.”_

_Adam is almost desperate. “There’s nothing left for you to prove. You’ve broken every record there is to break.”_

_Shiro remains silent._

_Adam sighs. “I know I can’t stop you. But I won’t go through this again.” He stands, face contorted in pain and resignation. “So if you decide to go... Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” He takes his bag, slings it over his shoulder, strap gripped tightly. “I’ve got a class to teach.”_

_Adam leaves the room, footsteps echoing, and Shiro balls his hands into fists, glares at the electro-stimulator on his wrist as his eyes begin to shine._

_Outside, Adam leans against the wall, closes his eyes, breathes in, breathes out and when he opens his eyes, they’re empty._

~

    For the first time, there is true silence in the room. No one from this table or any other dares to even breathe.

  Lance doesn’t think he can even if he wants to. Lieutenants Takashi Shirogane and Adam Wright. Sure, Lance knew about the legendary couple whose names adorned every plaque at the Garrison, more often together than not. But he had only ever heard rumours that they broke up before Kerberos. He’d thought even if it were true, it would’ve been professional and grown up, because that’s what they were; adults, role models, heroes. He thought maybe they just fell out of love because it happens. Sometimes things just don’t work out. (A part of him wasn’t really that invested in his teachers’ love lives back then, more concerned with his own.)

  He never would’ve imagined that it could’ve been so...

  “Holy shit,” Rizavi breathes so quietly he almost missed it.

  _That about sums it up_ , Lance thinks.

  Keith is looking at his feet. He says flatly, “It’s only going to get worse. The abyss has a tendency to bring up painful pasts and futures. Sometimes they’re just flashes but others are longer.”

  Lance can’t even begin to imagine what Shiro is feeling right now, having the entire crew witness his breakup. And Keith... His face is too blank for Lance’s comfort, in the same way it was days before Keith left for the Blade of Marmora. That’s never a good face.

  “Uh...” Hunk trails. “Where did Pidge and Kosmo go?”

  On cue, Lance’s communicator beeps. He takes it out of his pocket and answers, Pidge’s angry face filling up the entire screen.

  “KEITH!” she yells, because Keith never has his communicator on him and everyone has taken to calling expected nearby people to reach him; like this particular moment. “Your dog teleported me into a holding cell!”

  “Wolf.”

  The Olkari tech pipes in, “Hello!” It goes ignored.

  “I didn’t tell him to,” Keith says, some semblance of life coming back into his expression. “He probably got spooked by the light.”

  “Yeah, well, can you come and get me out? Not a huge fan of being in close quarters with _pirates_.”

  A chorus of protests erupt in the background but one look from Pidge and everyone goes silent.

  “Where’s Kosmo?” Keith asks.

  “I don’t know, probably moving other people.”

  Lance interrupts, “Hang on. Can’t the Olkari break you out?”

  Pidge makes an unimpressed face while Jaro, the aforementioned Olkari, comments something about the security being child’s play for the umpteenth time. Pidge shoots him another glare before turning back to the camera. “He’s a disappointment to the Olkari name.” 

  Lance agrees, “Ryner would be ashamed.”

  Surprisingly Jaro has no smartass retort this time, which makes Lance wonder if he’d overdone it.

  Keith sighs but a small smile makes its way onto his face, his words laced with a certain sense of fondness that attempts to hide his unease. “Alright. I’m coming.”

  Lance ends the call. The others around the table have begun picking up the cards and getting ready for another round, happy to ignore what they’d just witnessed. Probably for the best.

  “You want to come?” Keith asks, nodding in the direction of the door.

  “Sure.”

  They shuffle outside, making their way down to the cells. For the better part of the journey, Lance debates whether he should ask or not. Of course, Keith would answer because apparently their friendship now extends beyond the border of Keith’s walls, like a little door that he made for few select people which includes Lance. That doesn’t mean everything on the other side of the wall is laid bare and Lance can never really predict how much Keith would share.

  The sunset was a bit of a surprise. Lance never took Keith to be one to give out pep talks like _that_ and yet.

  When they get into the elevator he crosses his fingers and hopes Keith is in a sharing mood. “The first time you crossed this place did you see a lot of bad memories?”

  “I saw my dad run back into that building twenty-two times,” Keith says softly. “Every single time, I tried to hold him back even when I knew I couldn’t.”

  Lance whistles, speechless. All he can manage after two heartbeats is, “Shit, I’m so sorry, Keith,” because Keith’s hurt leaves an unsettling feeling in his chest. A part of him wonders how much Keith would’ve said had Lance asked him about his dad before he left the team. How honest would the answer have been? How vulnerable would he have left himself be?

  Certainly not this much, not enough for Lance to wonder how many times Keith needed him and he wasn’t there. 

  Keith shrugs. “At least there were only me and Krolia back then. And Kosmo, I guess.”

  “Right. Yeah.”

  The elevator doors open after a moment and they step outside into a corridor of cells on either side, the sterile smell of disinfectant mixed with engine oil wafting in the air. Like a hospital too close to a mechanic’s. Lance scrunches his nose as they start walking down the long path, footsteps echoing loudly.

  Keith’s quietness is different, and Lance thinks maybe this is one of those times he needs someone. So he prompts, “Did you know Adam well?”

  A nod. “He was also like a brother to me, even though I never told him that.” He huffs out a laugh. “We didn’t really get along because I was a brat and he didn’t put up with my crap like Shiro did. But after Shiro went missing, he was one of the only people left in my life. He tried to help me but I shut him out.”

  Keith sounds like he regrets it. The wry smile slowly slides off and he stops walking altogether, staring intensely at the ground. “I didn’t know they broke up like that.” His expression is changing and Lance recognises this one from seeing it far too often on the faces of everyone around him, and on his own in the mirror.

  “Keith, nothing you did could’ve changed that.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “That I didn’t realise Shiro hurt more than he let on.” He laughs bitterly like Shiro didn’t have everyone else fooled either.

  “Keith, Shiro shares about himself as much as you used to, which is none. No one could’ve seen through him. Not at the Garrison, not on the Castle and probably not now.”

  “Adam did.”

  “Yeah, well, Professor Wright did have an uncanny habit of seeing through everyone’s bullshit. I mean, he saw through mine every time he caught me sneaking out of my room at night and I told him I was getting a drink.”

  Keith smiles lop-sidedly. “Lance, everyone sees through your bullshit. You’re not exactly the best liar out there.” Lance makes an unimpressed face and Keith sighs. “It doesn’t change the fact that I was an emotionally constipated idiot.”

    “Was. Past tense. Stop being so hard on yourself for stupid shit you did when you were younger. If I did that, I’d probably have launched myself into a black hole by now. Besides,” he adds more light-heartedly, “I think Shiro’s let go of the past anyway.”

  Keith raises an eyebrow slowly.

  “Curtis?”

  Keith raises both eyebrows.

  Okay, so maybe he’s still a little emotionally blind. “I swear he’s been making eyes at Curtis.”

  “I thought it was the other way around.”

  Oh. Maybe not that blind then. “Wow,” Lance drawls, a stupid grin making its way onto his face to match the idea forming in his head.

  Keith looks like he’s fighting off his own but gives up and rolls his eyes at the face Lance is making. “We are not playing cupid.”

  He starts walking again and Lance hurries to catch up. “What? Keith-”

  “I’m not meddling in his romantic life.”

  “Oh, come on! Think about it.”

  He shudders. “I’ve seen Shiro kiss Adam enough times to never want to think about anything like that again, thanks.”

  To which Lance replies, “Keith, you have zero sense of romance. That’s why you’re single.”

  “That’s...really not.”

  Lance scoffs, throwing his hands in the air exaggeratedly as he says, “Let me guess. You’re single because your sense of duty and heroism doesn’t spare enough time to woo anybody, am I right?”

  Keith makes a face like Lance just said the most inaccurate thing he could possibly have. “Uh, no. But speaking of time, we’d better get to Pidge before Jaro’s runs out and Pidge strangles him.”

  “I can live with that.”

  “Lance.”

  He sighs. “ _Fine._ We’ll extract Pidge but this discussion is not over.” 

  As it turns out, Pidge is not in the business of strangling anybody. When they arrive in front of the cell, she’s sitting on the floor with Jaro, her data pad shared between the two of them with a few holograms hovering in the air as they geek out. Zethrid and Ezor look at them and then at Lance and Keith, clearly amused by the two nerds in the room.

  Keith shares a look with Lance and neither of them is surprised to find this.

  Lance clears his throat. “I see you’re fraternising with the enemy, Pidge. I expected better from you.”

  “Hey, you’re here!” Pidge says, jumping to her feet as the holograms disappear. “Quick, let me out! I need to get to Coran. Or Curtis. Or Veronica. Whoever has access to the long range scanners.”

  Keith punches in the security codes on the panel and asks, “Why?”

  “Jaro just taught me how to reconfigure scanning system so that the gravitational fields from the giant planets don’t mess with them too much in the abyss. We might actually get proper radiation readings.” She’s practically rising into the air from excitement.

  Lance raises an eyebrow. “What happened to ‘he’s a disappointment to the Olkari’?”

  Pidge looks at Jaro who’s still sitting on the floor, looking significantly more glum than he was ten seconds ago. “If he keeps this up, I think he can redeem himself.”

  “Actually,” Zethrid cuts in, “why are we still in this cell? If it weren’t for us, you’d never have made it out of that battle.”

  “Uh, let’s see,” Lance starts. “You tried shove Keith into a volcano, Ezor shoved Pidge against a wall, not to mention both of you tried to kill us, like, _fifty_ times!”

  “Ezor is welcomed to roam the ship,” Pidge says. When Lance turns a frown on her, she shrugs. “She was helping Acxa deliver supplies from the Coalition.”

  Ezor sends Pidge a grateful smile and then Lance a challenge smirk. In another reality, Lance could probably be friends with her. Sadistic as she is, Ezor also seems kind of fun to be around. Not in this reality though. Lance doesn’t like forgiving people who hurt his friends.

  He sticks his tongue out at her.

  Keith snorts and closes the cell door after Pidge. “I’ll talk to Shiro about it.” Of course he would. Why must Keith be actually a decent guy and not hold a grudge to save his life? Here Lance is, holding all the grudges for everyone and their mothers.

  “Is it true?” Ezor asks just as they’re about to leave. “Lotor’s on this ship?”

  Keith nods solemnly.

  Something like fear colours Ezor’s face, shoulders tensing even as Zethrid wraps an arm around her. “Don’t tell him we’re here. Please.”

  “We won’t,” Pidge promises, then she hurries off.

  When they’re a few cells away, Lance asks, “Are you actually going to talk to Shiro about letting them loose?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Uh, are you okay? Do I need to wrestle you to the med bay?” Lance presses the back of his hand against Keith’s (surprisingly soft) cheek.

  Keith’s eyes fly wide and he slaps the hand away from his face, spluttering, “What- n-no, it’s just- Mum and Kolivan have been talking about recruiting them into the Blade of Marmora and I kind of agree with them. If they had a good leader, I’m sure they can be valuable assets for us. They fight well.”

  “They fight dirty. Weren’t you the one complaining about Ezor’s camouflage as cheating and, I quote, ‘dishonourable’? They’re not exactly loyal either.”

  “Like I said, it’s just talk for now. We have more important things to focus on.”

  “Oh, you’re here,” someone else says.

  Allura comes down the corridor, looking between the two of them in mild surprise.

  “Hey, Allura,” Keith greets. “Come to see the Alteans?”

  “Just finished actually.”

  “Ready to go?” Lance asks, taking her hand.

  Keith glances at their joined hands, which embarrasses Lance more than it should. He’s never shied away from PDA, constantly draping himself over anyone and everyone, much to their annoyance. Maybe because Keith is the one person that Lance hadn’t ever _really_ invaded personal space of that it feels weird to be affectionate in front of him. Plus, the guy can barely give an awkward return hug so it’s probably uncomfortable for Keith to watch PDA.

  “Where are you going?” he asks.

  “We’re going to the observation deck for star-gazing,” Allura answers.

  Keith smiles. “I’ll leave you guys then. Have fun.”

  With that, Keith takes off with his hands in his pockets even though they’re meant to be going the same way to the elevator.

  Allura gives Lance a questioning look but Lance shrugs, tightening his hold on her hand.

~

  As Keith warned, the flashes become more frequent and worse. Allura feels the tension in the air thicken with every vision of the past or future, feels it in the way people avoid others’ eyes and the way they whisper as if the abyss might listen to their words. But Allura wants to see. She wants see her mother and father and her home, wants to see the life she only knows in her dreams now. Her heart aches in silent pleading. _Show me. Show me. Show me._

  And if the abyss does listen, then it doesn’t listen to her.

  A child is born and abandoned.

  A bride says no at the altar.

  A brother passes away in a terrible vehicle accident. As it turns out, it’s not the past but the possible future.

  Lance’s grandmother forgets his name.

  Keith’s dad runs into a burning building.

  Some are long and some are no more than brief seconds. In those moments, Allura sees the lions in the Castle, the Red lion – her father’s lion – in battle, blasting at Galra fighters, Trigel in the Green, and Voltron wielding the flaming sword; the closest things to home but never exactly what she yearns for. Nonetheless, she savours every piece.

  She still wants more.

  From the bridge Allura watches Red venture out of the Atlas, carrying Lance and Pidge out into the Abyss. The Atlas is due to arrive at the colony any moment now but Slav had insisted on close examination though lacked the courage to go out himself. There is apparently fifty-nine in sixtieth chance of flying off course and being stretched into smithereens.

  If Allura has forgotten how difficult Slav can be, then she certainly remembers now as she watches Red put more and more distance between them, being the only lion that can possibly traverse the terrain fast enough if anything goes wrong. She holds her breath anxiously, eyes on red and ears to the open communication line.

  “The readings are off the charts,” Pidge’s voice comes, slightly muffled over the transmission. She’s currently in her paladin suit outside Red, tethered by a wire, which Colleen has – understandably – objected to and thus commenced a mother-daughter war which Pidge won with minor sacrifices.

  Now Colleen is in the centre of the cockpit with Hunk, both biting their nails, and Matt has a hand on his mother’s shoulder. Allura has half a mind to join them there but somehow staying beside Keith is much more calming. He’s laid a hand on Kosmo’s head, his jaw as tense as everyone else but he vouched for Lance when he volunteered to go out in Red. Allura rarely ever relies on anyone else’s instincts but her own but Keith’s confidence in Lance, Pidge and Red is a relief she never thought possible.

  Pidge continues, “The gravity wells are almost powerful enough to warp light if there aren’t so many wells acting against each other.”

  “Almost powerful enough to warp light?” Slav echoes. “Oh, no. That means they have almost as much gravitational force as a small black hole. We’d never be able to make temporal energy to mimic that on such a large scale!”

  In usual Slav fashion, he starts to panic.

  Just to get him back on track, Allura asks, “Maybe there is a way to seal each fracture individually?”

  “The space-time fractures multiply at an exponential rate! Not only do we not have enough energy to do that, we don’t have the time.”

  Right. He had mentioned that they’d have a maximum of one phoeb before the whole universe is reduced to nothing but a sea of ‘time soup’, as Pidge called it. They’ve nearly crossed the Abyss completely with still no inkling of solution to anything. It feels far too much like they’re simply waiting for _something_ to happen, going around in circles, and Allura hates that she can’t do more.

  Slav continues to panic, waving his many arms around as he makes distressed noises. On the platform, Shiro looks as exhausted as Allura feels.

  “Slav, can you not?” Lance says, irritation colouring his voice. “It’s hard enough trying to keep a lion on course in this place.”

  Veronica murmurs, “Be careful, Lance.”

  Allura puts a hand on her shoulder in both agreement and reassurance.

  Then Curtis interrupts in urgency, “Captain, radiation wave incoming!”

  Shiro’s eyes grow wide but it’s too late.

  Heart in throat, the light sears across Allura’s eyelids and all she hears is Lance yelling, “Keith!”

~

  _The cloudy violet sky is alight with distant crossfire and Lance backs away with his sword tight in his grip, fear stark in his eyes as he heaves shuddering breaths. “Please,” he says brokenly as the scene blurs and fades._

_His voice echoes, “It’s me.”_

~

  “Help!” Lance’s real voice comes. “ _Shit, shit, shiiiiiiit!_ ”

  “Lance!” Allura gasps as the Red lion careens into a gravity well, Pidge’s scream taking over all the speakers on the bridge.

  A chaos of sounds breaks out in the bridge, multiple voices yelling, “Pidge! Lance!” Veronica’s screen that tracks Red’s course flashes an angry red as an alarm wails and Slav screaming about how he knew this was going to happen and Kosmo barking and Hunk wailing and Shiro’s trying to talk Lance through and Allura’s heart helplessly pounds in her ears above it all.

  With Pidge still hanging onto the lion by nothing but a wire, Red fires its thrusters at maximum power in an attempt to escape the well.

  A thundering roar breaks over the cacophony of sheer terror in the room and shakes the Atlas, the floor rumbling beneath Allura’s feet. Then the Black lion enters the view window just as Red manages to direct itself back on course.

  “Kei-” Allura starts to cry but Keith is still here beside her, eyes closed, a hand on Kosmo’s head. “Oh.”

  “Pidge, Lance, are you okay?” Shiro asks, gripping the frames of the platform, shaken.

  In a very untimely moment, Allura sees the man with nut-brown skin and spectacles leaving that room before she pulls herself out of a memory she should not have seen.

  “I’m good,” Lance says warily. “But that was _way_ too close for comfort.”

  “You’re telling me,” Pidge quips. “I was outside the lion!”

  Slav crawls his way onto Shiro’s back and says, “Tell me you were running that background experiment on your data pad!”

  Colleen glares at him murderously. “ _Excuse me_? My daughter is out there risking her life and all you care about is an experiment?”

  At least Slav has enough decency to cower a tiny bit but he still says, “The experiment that could save the entire universe.”

  Colleen all but starts throwing fists and Allura almost follows her example. Sometimes, diplomacy and manners are the bane of her existence. She holds her hands in shaking fists, reminding herself that everyone is fine; Lance and Pidge are both experienced and very capable.

  “Alright,” Shiro interrupts loudly before things can descend into complete madness. “Lance, Pidge, return to the Atlas. I think that’s enough.”

  Red reels Pidge back into its mouth, meeting Black halfway. For a moment the two lions hang still as if communicating with each other in a strangely intimate way, Black’s head almost touching Red. The moment ends before Allura makes sense of it. Both lions fly back to the hanger.

  Allura rushes down to the hanger with half the bridge, throwing herself through open doors. Lance and Pidge have just stepped out of Red when Veronica tackles her brother into a hug and Colleen smothers her daughter into her chest. Allura breathes easier when Lance gives her a little smile of reassurance, and then it falls away as he looks to Keith.

  Lance asks, “When you were here last time did you see anyone with you physically? Like, on the space whale and not a vision.”

  Keith frowns. “No. Did you?”

  “I thought...” He looks at Allura, eyebrows knitted, which makes her worry. “I thought I saw King Alfor in the red lion but it was before the light went off.”

  Allura freezes, mind reeling. Distantly she registers her own hand being enveloped in warm ones but she sees her father sitting her on his knees in Red’s cockpit, wearing his paladin armour that is her mother’s design, which she used admire so much on him. “You saw my father.”

  Pidge offers quietly, “Maybe it’s from time fractures? We’ve been seeing spillage more often and Red used to be King Alfor’s so it would make sense to see him there.”

  “Right, of course,” Allura says. “Should we analyse the readings?”

  “Yes please!” Slav shrieks, slinking over to Pidge even as Colleen glares.

  Shiro steps forward to tell Slav to take care of the analysis while Lance and Pidge get some rest before they arrive at the colony. Allura offers to help Slav, a little desperate to keep herself busy until they arrive.

  She catches Lance giving Keith a glance but one look from her has Keith holding back on whatever Lance wants him to say. She’s done nothing but laze around for the better part of today, on request of all her friends, but stars be damned if she doesn’t do something productive now. No one says anything as she follows Slav out.

  The quicker they fix the fractures, the quicker Allura can stop hoping for the impossible.

 

  The analysis doesn’t get very far before Shiro’s voice announces, “Atlas crew, prepare for landing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking around. :)


	3. Beyond the Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew arrives on the colony and discovers a few things about the Galran prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might've noticed that the chapter total has been changed to 10 because I decided to go with my original plan which allows for much more character development, even if... it's a bit confusing. I'll do my best for everything to make some sense at least.
> 
> Also, kudos to @Aki_2 for kind of correctly predicting what's going to happen. :D (I still say you stole my notebooks.)

  All that remain of the colony are empty homes and overgrown grass of mottled gray and yellow. Dust coats the walls of the houses and every surface, hand-sewn stuffed animals are no exception. Keith had only seen the village from a distance before but now the emptiness of life still buries itself deep in his bones. This is what it felt like that year in the desert, the shack missing the liveliness of his dad’s terrible singing, the clacking of tools as he worked on the hoverbike and the sizzle and overcooked smell of egg and bacon in the mornings that Keith still remembers to this day.

  Allura looks out towards the valley that was once home to her people, her gaze heavy. It passes over baskets under trees, bikes left leaning on the buildings, the flowerbeds overrun with weed. “Were you happy here?” she asks Tavo.

  “Very.” His mouth is set in a grim line as he glances behind them where Lotor stands at the MFE’s gunpoint, hands bound. “He provided everything we could ever need. He brought books for the children and the best medicine the empire had. I cannot understand why he would do what you claim.”

  Allura says nothing and Romelle looks like she wants to but refrains, lips pursed.

  “And Honerva,” Tavo continues. “She had us believe that Voltron destroyed the second colony. I could never have imagined...” His voice fades as he moves further away.

  Keith lingers back as the others sweep further through the village, brushing fingers over dusty walls and buildings like they could see into the past where the place was bustling with colour, with life.

  “What do you think, mum?” he asks Krolia. “About Lotor’s story.”

  Krolia stays silent for a moment, watching the prince. “Lotor is not his father.”

  Keith looks at her, and then at Lotor who’s watching Allura as if nobody else exists. This is the first time he’s shared the same space as her and she hadn’t acknowledged his existence at all as she brushed past him down the ramp to the colony.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Zarkon’s strength was strategy and brutality, the way of the ancient Galra. Lotor’s strength lies with people. It’s no secret that planet Xornia flourished with his leadership and his subjects were loyal to him until the very last moment when Zarkon destroyed them. But he’s also amassed a great following of people who had suffered and lost and misused their trust for a cause he claims to be good.”

  “So you’re saying you don’t know what to think.”

  “Yes.”

  Keith turns to Lotor to find that his eyes have finally strayed from the princess to the two of them, something unreadable in the way he stares.

  “Maybe he’s working with Honerva,” Keith suggests.

  “Lotor despises her,” she says. “That is one of the reasons Kolivan and I did not object to coming here again. If nothing else, he might be telling the truth about wanting to end her.”

  Shiro calls everyone back in after thoroughly scoping out the colony, finding nothing of any use. (Except Hunk who finds a bunch of sporks and rubs it in Keith and Lance’s faces for judging him all those years ago on the Universal Base Station. “I _told_ you advanced species use sporks!”)

  Keith doesn’t miss the way Lotor eyes Krolia’s hand on his shoulder before she walks off to the Atlas and he thinks; things might be starting to make a little sense.

~

  The facility remains unchanged, untouched, standing strong against the wind that howls and whips through their clothes. Inside, darkness seeps from every corner, a cacophony of their footsteps bouncing off the walls. Swords drawn, guns out, bayards active, they slink through the building until they come to a massive door.

  Keith prepares himself for what lies beyond but his stomach still twists. Yet, it’ll still be nothing compared to what the three Alteans would feel as they stand in front of the door, Allura’s hand poised over the screen to open it, hesitant. Beside Keith, Kosmo is tense and growling quietly in recognition of where they are, sniffing the air and nose scrunching at whatever he scents. Keith only smells metallic, stale air.

  With one deep breath, Allura presses her hand down.

  The door slides open slowly, little by little revealing the rows and rows of pods that entrap so many Alteans who once trusted Lotor with everything they had, worshipped him. The man in question has enough decency to wince as a dozen horrified gasps echo around the room. His eyes are trained on Allura, gauging her reaction carefully.

  “They’re all people...” she trails quietly, gaping at the pods, glass obscured by a sheen of dust. She wipes a trembling hand across one, breath hitching at the near-lifeless body she finds, all but bone and skin the colour of ash, the shell of a woman attached to a dozen wires. Half-lidded glassy blue eyes stare unblinking and a shiver crawls down Keith’s spine.

  Coran is speechless for once, just taking in all of it in horror.

  “Renali!” Tavo gasps, racing towards the woman, face stricken. He frantically scans the tube from top to bottom as if he might find a way to get the woman out. Then he turns a furious, disgusted glare on Lotor. “You called yourself our saviour and this is what you’ve done.”

  “He may have brought us together but he is not our saviour,” Romelle hisses.

  “I know this is beyond forgiveness,” Lotor says, tugging a little against Kolivan’s grip on his shoulder as he takes a step forward. “But please-”

  Kosmo growls, hackles raised, but marginally relaxes when Keith holds out a hand to say everything is okay.

  “Forgiveness?” Lance scoffs. “How could you have faced Allura and acted as if you haven’t committed genocide against her people? Your _mother’s_ people?”

  Lotor flinches but says nothing, the image of the self-assured warrior faltering with all those glares plastered on him. Keith keeps looking for tells of manipulation, the only reason they’ve let Lotor out here in the first place, but the shame colouring his face seems as real as it comes. But then again, he’s never seen Lotor lie through his teeth in person so it’s hard to say.

  Allura turns back to Renali and watches the woman for a moment. Closing her eyes, she presses her hands to the glass. “She is alive,” Allura murmurs.

  Hunk asks, “Do you think you can bring them back? Like you brought Shiro back.”

  “For everyone?” Pidge asks sceptically, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of people.”

  “I cannot revive even one,” Allura says dejectedly, stepping away from the tube to look at all the others. “I transferred Shiro’s soul from the Black Lion to bring him back. But these people... Their souls are trapped within their own bodies. They need quintessence that’s been leeched from them. I-I cannot do anything.”

  Keith looks to Lotor, only to find the prince staring at him already as if he can hear Keith’s thoughts. Keith is starting to get the impression Lotor is as obsessed with him as he is with Allura.

  Lotor turns back to the princess and announces, “I can help them.”

  Allura growls, “If you think for one moment that I’ll let you anywhere near them again-”

  “Let him,” Keith interrupts without thinking. All eyes turn to him, most shocked and confused. Even Kosmo cocks his head. Keith has been trying to figure out why Lotor feels so different and he finally gets it now. He explains, “Lotor spent three years in the quintessence field and survived overexposure. Think of how much extra quintessence he’s absorbed during this time. Allura, you must feel it too.”

  Allura looks like she wants to disagree but only settles for a disgruntled frown because if Keith has sensed it, she must’ve sensed it too. Her eyes follow the silver scars across Lotor’s skin and then hold his eyes in a stare down that brims with tension of a lot of different kinds. Staring, staring, staring. Suddenly it becomes very awkward very fast for not only Keith.

  Lance glances at him, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn in concern. What he expects him to do, he doesn’t know.

  “Very well,” Allura says, finally breaking eye contact.

  “Be careful, princess,” Coran cautions.

  Kolivan guides Lotor to Allura who looks like she can’t stand him being within arm’s reach. Tavo steps away as Lance takes up position, blaster rifle poised at Lotor’s head. “Don’t try anything funny,” Lance warns.

  Lotor nods curtly. Keith hopes he hasn’t made a mistake in letting him do this.

  Allura places a hand on the glass and another gingerly on Lotor’s shoulder. He seems almost nostalgic as he gazes at the hand that rests on him and then at her, like he wants to reach out. Lance clearly notices the stare too, impossible for anyone not to.

  Inhaling deeply, Allura closes her eyes and begins. First, Lotor’s scars begin to glow a pale purple, and then Allura’s hand on his shoulder follows. His eyes widens by a fraction before he closes his eyes too. The glow extends down her arm and then her whole body radiates a bright pinkish-purple light, flowing through her other arm. It spreads across the glass coffin, low at first then becomes so piercingly bright Keith has to squint over his arm.

  When the light dims down eventually, half the glass pod dissipates with a cloud of moisture pluming out, shimmering purple with quintessence.

  “Is she...” Pidge trails, peering through the group surrounding the pod.

  Renali stirs, eyelids fluttering over flushed cheeks, colour returning to the rest of her body that’s now filled-out, skin smooth and healthy. A knot comes undone in Keith’s chest at the same time another forms with the implication of what this newfound discovery means.

  Allura turns on Lotor. “The wires – what are they for?”

  Lotor feels less like a fragile balance, a little more steady now. He answers, “To keep them in stasis, but they’re no longer required.”

  Allura looks to Coran and Tavo and the two nod in understanding, going to carefully remove the wires from Renali before Tavo carries her out, gently laying her half on the floor, half in his arms. Coran places a finger under her hose and nods in relief when he finds her breathing. Shiro opens communication to the Atlas, ordering medics to prepare for emergency physical assessment.

  “Can you give more?” Allura asks Lotor, though begrudgingly, barely looking at him.

  Lotor looks like a child given candy. “Yes, princess.”

  Allura and Lotor move onto the next pod and then the next, Atlas crew transporting them to the infirmary on hovering stretchers. By the fourth, Lotor is pale and swaying on his feet but his face is set in determination as Allura finishes transferring quintessence from him. He tries to keep himself on his own feet but Kolivan is clearly putting more effort into holding him up than before.

  “Allura, I think that might be enough,” Lance says gently, to Keith’s surprise.

  Keith has been under the impression that Lance wouldn’t mind that much if Lotor died. Or maybe that’s just him.

  Allura opens her eyes and gasp when she sees the state Lotor is in. “I-”

  “It’s fine. I’m fine,” Lotor insists. “I can give mo-”

  “No, this is enough,” Shiro says, putting a hand out. “Krolia, Kolivan, please escort him back to the Atlas.”

  Lotor casts one final lingering look on Allura, who’s pointedly not looking at him, before he’s led away. He sends a nod in something like gratitude as he passes Keith, and then he’s out of the room. Despite such a simple action, Keith still finds an ember of anger burning in his chest, and embarrassment even though no one is even looking at him. He didn’t mean to help Lotor out. The gratitude was misplaced and he wants to shove it right back at Lotor’s face.  

  “Okay,” Lance starts. “So he helps a few Alteans out. That doesn’t excuse him from what he did in the first place and it doesn’t mean he’s not lying now.”

  “Yes,” Allura agrees but the word wavers.

  “I don’t know,” Hunk says slowly and then his eyes fly wide as he starts to defend himself. “I-I mean- It’s just, well, Lotor kind of looked pretty serious about all this.”

  “He did before too,” Lance argues.

  Keith interrupts before anything else breaks out and they’re stuck in an endless loop, “We can discuss this later. Right now we need to figure out what we’ll do with the other Alteans. Shiro?”

  Shiro looks torn, lips pressed and eyes passing over hundreds of other tubes. “We can’t bring them aboard the Atlas. There’s not enough space or power to keep the pods running. We don’t have much of a choice but to keep them here for now.”

  Romelle squeaks. “When Lotor is better, can’t we save more?”

  “If,” Pidge corrects. “We don’t know if his quintessence can even be replenished to its original state.”

  “And we don’t have enough time to find out,” Keith adds.

  Allura stares at the pods longingly, lip rolling between her teeth. “At least we know we can save them,” she says, probably more to reassure herself than anyone else. “The sooner Honerva is defeated and the fractures fixed, the sooner we can return.”

  Lance takes her hand and gives her a smile that somehow stops Keith’s heart as if he has any right to feel it that deep in his chest. So Keith looks on ahead to the other end of the chamber.

  “We’ll scope the area to check for anything that might be useful,” he announces, and feels a tiny bit bad that he didn’t let Shiro make the command but he’s already at the door.

  The rest of the facility is as deserted as he remembers, the “drainage systems” – a crude term used for a monstrous device – is just as bleak and daunting with beds, straps, gas masks, tubes and wires. Keith has seen fellow blade members – his brothers and sisters, family – die in front of his own eyes, throw themselves into flames and charge head-on into line of fire, only to be gunned down halfway. But none of that will ever make bile rise in his throat the way seeing this place does.

  He doesn’t let Allura inside, quickly calling out, “All clear,” before she and Lance has a chance to wander that way.

  There isn’t much else to this place, just mostly empty chambers or quintessence purification systems like the one he’s seen the druids use. One room at the top level of the building is different to the others. A long row of tables leans against one wall, clattered with little bits of machinery and schematics on paper, a rare sight in the era of holographic blueprints. On the other side is a bed, small by Galran standards, pillow askew and sheets strewn half on the bed and half on the floor. Otherwise, the room is empty of furniture. Not even a chair.

  Kosmo patters to the tables, sniffing all the way across until he reaches the end where he paws at a tablet. The device flickers on, a blue hologram hovering.

  Allura reaches it before everyone else and she says nothing at what she sees, simply watching.

  A wobbly line drawing fills the screen, a child and a man with unmistakeable long hair, even with the quality of the drawing. Two giant curved lines indicate wide grins on their faces. Hunk swipes to find another drawing, this time of a group of children around Lotor, a little more skilled than the previous picture.

  “Did Lotor draw these?” Lance asks.

  “The children did,” Romelle answers. “He... He would encourage them to create art and when he visits, they send him their pictures. My brother Bandor drew him one when we were young.”

  Pidge grabs the tablet to her and presses a few things, pulling up tiny icons of hundreds of pictures. She presses more things, fingers flying across the screen and then she concludes quizzically, “The entire storage is made up entirely of drawings, dating back as far as twenty decaphoebs.”

  Romelle mutters, “He doesn’t deserve any of them.”

  Maybe not but Keith hates that he kept them, perhaps even treasured them if he kept ones from twenty years ago. A man capable of draining a being dry of life shouldn’t have the heart to hold things close to.

  Keith draws away from the group, surveying the rest of the table. Hand-drawn designs range from quintessence holding cells to parts of ships and scribbled drawings of various random objects here and there as if Lotor gotten bored or tried to take a break without really leaving the tables. Most sheets are faded with time, laying beneath a thick coat of dust that puffs into gray clouds when he blows.

  They gather up every piece of paper and every bolt and screw to take back for further analysis. Pidge finds a stack of tablets in the drawers and under the bed, which sends Hunk and Lance on a mission to find hidden compartments in walls and floors. Kosmo watches them curiously.

  But there’s not much more to be done here.

  Keith finds Acxa and Ezor in the room full of Alteans when he goes back out, the two gawking around like they can’t quite believe it. Ezor hadn’t wanted Lotor to see her but now that he’s gone, she’s ventured out it seems.

  “This is horrible,” Ezor breathes, which is interesting considering she’s made herself seem like the bloodthirsty one. Not surprising though.

  Keith strolls over. “You didn’t know?”

  Acxa says, “No. Lotor would sometimes disappear for phoebs at a time. We had suspicions that there were things he kept from us but nothing of this scale.” She glances at the nearest pod. “The war has forced even the kindest of us to do unimaginable things and I knew Lotor was no saint. None of us are. But this is...” She doesn’t finish.

  Ezor whispers, “Narti was loyal to him and he killed her.”

  Because she was puppet to Haggar. Acxa has told him about it.

  Keith waits for the other paladins and the MFEs to pass. Shiro still lingers behind with Allura near the back, talking quietly. So he’s quieter when he asks, “Has Lotor ever done anything good for you?”

  The two share a confused look before Ezor says, “He found my birth mother.”

  “Mine too,” Acxa says. “But she was dead by the time Lotor was able to trace her with the information he obtained from her labour camp.”

  Where Acxa was born and taken from to be raised for a lifetime of war. Keith presses, “You asked him to?”

  She narrows her eyes at Keith, catching up on where he’s trying to go. “No,” she answers slowly. “We did not care for such sentiments.”

  “Until he told me about her,” Ezor adds, looking a bit sheepish.

  Keith’s blood boils, hands gripping his bayard with the need to sink his blade through something. Refusal to understand the situation, Lotor’s actions, is immature so he settles for a refusal to accept it, stalking out of the place, Kosmo on his heels. From a life-time of following his spur-of-the-moment reckless ideals comes the itching desire to march to Lotor and demand answers that would only stoke his fire.

  Lance sees him on the way out, frowning when he catches sight of Keith. “Whoa. Are you okay?”

  “Just stressed.” The words are clipped so he can’t help adding lightly on instinct, “I’m fine. Thanks, Lance.”

  God, when has he become so... soft? It’s making people stare. Are they staring? Doesn’t matter. His ears burn as he keeps stalking out, frustration rolling off in waves.

~

  With every bit of distance the Atlas puts between it and the facility, the worry heightens. Allura’s heart aches, even with the knowledge that a team of Blade members have been assigned guard on the moon before they left. But several more scouting missions hadn’t surmounted to anything more useful, not a single clue. To remain there longer was to waste time no matter how much it pains her to leave her people once again, helpless.

 

  So Allura finds herself in the infirmary with Romelle and Tavo as soon as medics have allowed visitors in and every moment since, while the others have gradually filed out one by one. Even Coran has duties to carry out in the bridge.

  The infirmary is the quietest place on the Atlas, away from the hum of engines, the hustle of the kitchens, the clash of weapons in the training rooms and chatter in the common rooms. The infirmary’s only patients are the four Alteans rescued from the facility, unconscious and weak from decaphoebs of coma. Faint beeps from the monitors are the only sound.

  Tavo holds Renali’s hand tight, pulling it to his chest. She was her betrothed, he’d told Allura, nearly thirty decaphoebs ago. The other three are friends of Evlyn and Katar, the siblings who currently reside in the cells below.

  Romelle’s murmur is loud in the near silent room. “Allura, maybe we should consider extracting the entities from them all. They must want to see their friends.”

  “I know,” Allura agrees, “but it might also endanger them. To extract the entity from Tavo was a necessary risk and Tavo was already in danger. But to dig through minds to rip the creature away... I don’t know what it may do should Honerva try to regain control during the process.”

  Not when defeating Haggar would free them anyway.

  Or subject them to her manipulations before that can happen.  

  Circles and circles, another never-ending loop of what ifs. But she knows it’s not a risk she’s willing to take.

  Allura sits on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid its occupant, a young woman possibly no older than herself. Her chest rises and falls slowly and rhythmically, eyelashes fanning across her high cheekbones where pale yellow marks reside. Another Altean in the flesh. It all feels like a hazy dream and a nightmare both at once; a dream because she’d long accepted that she and Coran are the last of her people only to find that they’re not, a nightmare because what really does remain of her people are caught in a war they didn’t deserve.

  “Can’t you heal them?” Tavo asks.

  Allura can only shake her head. “I’m only an alchemist, and not a very good one at that. Healing is an intricate practice beyond my abilities.”

  Romelle lays a hand on his shoulder and smiles in reassurance. “She’ll be fine. They all will. The human physicians were able to save Luca, even if...”

  Even if Honerva killed her anyway.

  The healing pods on the Castle of Lions would’ve done the job in less than a few vargas but as of yet, no one has been able to replicate one successfully. They simply don’t have the technology required to construct one, not even with Coran’s ideas for substitute parts.

  Tavo sighs. “It will be a long process, time that we might not have. If we are all to perish, I only wish to speak with her once more.”

  “No one will perish,” Allura says firmly. “Voltron _can_ save the universe. We must not lose hope.”

  At this very moment, Slav is getting closer and closer to a solution, even if a temporary one, while Pidge and Hunk are sifting through information from Lotor’s tablets. No matter how low morale has been lately, to lose hope would mean to lose this war. Allura has to believe that her father’s creation and the paladins who pilot them are capable of facing the greatest of adversities or all of this would be for nought.

  Tavo gently brushes Renali’s hair back. “Do you believe him, princess? Do you believe Lotor?”

  No.

  Yes.

  No, does she believe anything he says?

  Lance doesn’t and he’s made his opinion very clear. Hunk has not said anything outright to her but surely he believes at least parts of Lotor’s story. Pidge and Keith have not said a word, nor has Shiro on the matter. Coran seems to at least consider alternate possibilities.

  And Allura herself? She doesn’t want to believe a single word that comes out of his mouth. Fool her once, shame on him. Fool her twice, shame on her. She’d already paid for her mistake with countless lives and the Castle of Lions, the last real remnant of home, all because she’d been head over heels for the first person who came along with pretty words of peace and hollow praises that exploited her.

  But it remains that Lotor saved her people who would’ve fallen prey to extinction scattered across the universe, carried a phenomenal task that she, the rightful ruler, could not. It remains that despite the atrocity, he’d preserved their bodies when disposal would best benefit him had he no later plans.

  She finally sighs and answers, “I don’t-” when a flash of white silences her.

~

  _The single chair in a great hall of ancient archives is occupied by a figure in a hooded cloak, broad-shouldered and lounging on a chair too small for his frame. A purple finger drags along the cracks on the table, claws tapping quietly. Another figure approaches from the end of the room, footsteps shuffling across the floor. His fur-lined ear twitches when he sees the person in the chair. A red mechanical eye fizzes._

_“Prince,” he says, the single syllable short and gruff._

_“Archivist Brarvig.”_

_One yellow eye narrows. “What brings you to planet Feyiv?”_

_The tapping stops. “I am in search of information only you can provide.”_

_“The Archivist does not divulge information to any, not even the prince himself.”_

_Lotor is still for a moment. “You can tell me what I want to know and our meeting will be forgotten or I will search this place myself. Tell me, Archivist, how did your predecessor lose her job?”_

_The Archivist grumbles, placing his fists on the table. “You dare step foot on the sacred land and threaten its guardian. Insolent child! No wonder the Emperor disregards your existence.”_

_Lotor chuckles and languidly pushes himself from the table, chair grating against the floor. With a mirthful swagger, he removes the hood to reveal a lop-sided grin that radiates youthful recklessness. “You see, I believe my father disregards my existence for the blood that runs in my veins. Galra...and something other.”_

_A slightest of twitch in the Archivist’s left ear. “Rightly so. No one cares for a mongrel.”_

_“That is exactly why I have come to you, the person with answers to all but every question regarding the Galra from the dawn of Daibazaal itself.”_

_The Archivist says nothing, watching with a beady eye as the prince begins to saunter to a nearby shelf, eyeing the spines of ancient books._

_Lotor continues, “A mongrel I may be but I have far outlived the age any_ pureblood _could possibly ever hope to reach. It seems that the birth of their prince escapes the minds of even the oldest that my heritage, the heritage of the Emperor’s mistress who bore his heir, remains a mystery. Isn’t that curious, Brarvig? I am only three generations old.”_

 _The Archivist fumes now as Lotor trails a finger along the spines, leaving a trail clear of dust that coats every shelf and surface. “Your mother’s blood makes you_ weak _. You are a black spot in the Galra’s glorious history, as was your mother and her people that took our homeworld.”_

_Lotor’s finger stops, back turned to the Archivist. “Our homeworld?” His voice shakes. He slowly turns, gone is the mirth, replaced by a cold stare that chills the room. “My mother was no mistress of Zarkon, was she? She was Honerva herself.”_

_The answering silence and glare says enough. Lotor’s hand by his side curls into fists while his face stays impassive. A claw on the other hand taps twice against the wood of the shelf._

_“Thank you, Brarvig,” he says, making way to the other side of the room, back rod-straight. “It has been a pleasure.”_

_When he passes the Archivist, Lotor’s facade shatters, lips rolling in between his teeth and eyes shining with unshed tears._

~

  Allura blinks, suddenly back in the infirmary, surrounded by machines beeping without care of what the room’s occupants have just witnessed; Lotor discovering the truth about himself. He’d never once alluded that he’d sought out the Archivist to dig the knowledge himself that she’d assumed it was given to him readily, that she hadn’t thought much further. Hadn’t thought about how it would’ve shaken him to the point of...tears?

  Why?

  Romelle glowers at a corner. Tavo watches Allura warily.

  “I don’t know,” she finishes.

  “Have you talked to him at all?”

  Allura looks away. “No.” Then a new sense of determination flickers inside her and she stands abruptly, startling Romelle. “But I think we are due for a conversation.”

  “With Lotor?” Romelle asks, aghast.

  Allura is already heading for the door. “Yes. It is time I stop running from him.”

  With that she marches out, ticking through all the things left unsolved between them. She would finish them all for good and finally take that last step off the ship that had been her and Lotor. And maybe, just maybe, she would stop thinking so much. Maybe she would be able to sleep when she closes her eyes.

  Allura makes her way through the corridors, passing people giving nods of greeting that she returns absentmindedly, worrying at her bottom lip. In the near two hundred decaphoebs of her life, her heart has never shaken this much that she feels the rush of blood down her arms and into the tip of her fingers.

  She notices at the last moment when a figure appears in front of her and she jumps with a yelp. Then she stares, dumbfounded for a brief moment because the figure wears a pink Garrison coat with white hair piled into a bun. Then a second figure appears, wearing blue. Lance’s eyebrows meet in the middle in concern, lips pursed as he looks over his shoulder and into a wall. In the corner of his left eye is a bandaid stretching over his cheekbone and a bluish-purple bruise adorns the opposite jaw like a nebula.

  Allura holds her breath as the other her takes one of Lance’s hands. She feels like she’s intruding on some private moment that she should have no access to but she can’t look away from how Lance gazes intensely at whatever he’s seeing or the way time-leaked-Allura squeezes his hand.

  “He’ll be okay, Lance,” she’s saying. “He’s a fighter.”

  Lance nods, seeming half unconvinced. Then Allura gently wraps her arms around him. He freezes a little before he exhales softly and returns the hug, eyes still on something else.

  Then they both dissipate slowly.

  Allura lets go of her breath, lungs burning and mind reeling with the realisation that she’d just seen a piece of her future, the future where Lance harbours a bruise the size of her fist and is probably hurt elsewhere too. Put that together with what they’d all seen the other day – Lance with his sword drawn and clearly fighting somebody – everything suddenly makes a terrifying lot more sense.

  She breathes out again, smoothing down the front of her coat. Then she keeps going, this time heading for a different place to detour first.

  Going down the elevator lands her on the floor where the gym, training rooms and shooting ranges are located. But Lance isn’t there. Shiro and Curtis, in the midst of an arm-wrestling contest with Shiro’s human arm, direct her to the common room so she trudges there next. Even from a few rooms away, Lance’s shouts drift.

  “No! No, dude! You’re going to kill me!”

  “Fuck you, Lance. Stop yelling in my ear!” That, to Allura’s immense surprise, is Keith.

  “Stop stabbing me then!”

  “I’m not!”

  “Yes, you are!”

  “Well, I’m not trying to!”

  Allura runs for the open door of the common room, ready to break up whatever is happening and confused that the two have suddenly reverted back to their initial paladin days and fighting again. What she finds makes her words fall away, skidding to a stop in the doorway.

  They’re playing a game. Killbot Phantasm 25, Lance has once told her when he asked if she wanted to play. The two are sitting on the couch with their backs to the door, throwing their controllers in the air, aggressively pushing buttons and making inhuman noises that startle her.

  “Dude, get your character off mine!” Lance says, shoving Keith with his shoulder.

  “I’m try-”

  The screen makes a noise and the words GAME OVER pop up. The two boys pause, Lance leaning on Keith and Keith with one hand on Lance’s face in an attempt to push him away.

  “Wow,” Lance breathes, a hint of a smile in his voice. “Wow, Keith. I got murdered by my own party member.”

  Keith growls. “Well, I’m sorry the stupid character doesn’t go the way I want it to.”

  Lance’s shoulders shake as he starts laughing, a little bit at first and then he was roaring, his whole body laughing along with him. Keith shoves him gently with his elbow as he begins to chuckle too, turning to the side to take in Lance almost dying from laughter.

  Without really thinking, Allura jumps behind the wall before Keith sees her in the door way, peeking out a little bit to watch the two of them. Lance laughs so whole-heartedly, clinging on Keith’s arm. Allura doesn’t understand what’s funny about the situation but seeing him so happy like this... Has he ever laughed like that with her?

  And Keith. Her breath hitches in her throat. The way he looks at Lance... That’s the same way her father looked at her mother, softly and tenderly and so very much in love. Like Lance is the entire world. How has she never seen this before? How has she not realised? Keith is in love with Lance.

  Does Shiro know? Krolia?

  Does Lance?

  Chest tight and heavy, Allura slowly slips away and doesn’t realise she’s headed for the elevator until she’s in it. Then she leans against the cool metal, resting her head on it. Her old governess would’ve pinched her ear for unregal posture but she can’t help it. Today has been a day of mind-turning revelations and she has no idea what to feel about this latest one.

  Jealous? No, not quite. Lance is with her and by definition she can’t be jealous. Worried? Not that either. Keith is a good friend that he’d never even think of coming between her and Lance. Surprised? She thinks she might be but somehow she’s not. Somehow it feels as if this could’ve been predicted right from the start.

  Somehow, it feels as if Allura wasn’t ever really in the equation.

  And even if she is now, at some point she would be cancelled out in simplification.

  She would lose Lance.

  The elevator doors open. She’s on the floor of the holding cells.

  She steps out into the hallway. Immediately the surrounding is as noisy as her mind with incessant whirring of engines and clinks and groans of shifting metal. She breathes in, breathes out, and repeats it twice, recalling what she’s meant to say to Lotor and pushing the latest emotional journey aside. She fails, her mind replaying the way Keith looks at Lance and the way Lance so comfortably clings on Keith closely.

  She’s just going to have to deal with this.

  She starts walking with as much purpose as she can muster through halls of empty cells that stretch over half this floor. Lotor’s is far away from the Alteans’ and his former generals’, far enough away that when Pidge and Hunk emerge from the direction, she’s mildly surprised.

  “Hey, Allura,” Hunk greets. Then he eyes the cell he undoubtedly must’ve come from. “You, uh, come to see Lotor?”

  “Yes,” she says simply, nervously. “You and Pidge?”

  Pidge holds up the stack of tablets they’d confiscated from the facility. “We came to ask what some of the schematics are for. They’re written in dead languages so none of our translators worked.”

  “Do you- Do you want us to go back with you?” Hunk asks unsurely, scratching the back of his head.

  “Thank you, Hunk. But I must do this myself.” And trying to get Lance didn’t go as planned anyway, as if the universe is telling her that this is her battle alone.

  Pidge purses her lips. “Stay safe, Allura.”

  She promises that she would, continuing her way to the cell of her destination, the only brightly lit one in this entire hall. Then she remembers.

  “Pidge,” she calls. The green paladin turns. “The visions from time-fractures- will they happen for certain?”

  Pidge thinks for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. “Well, contrary to popular belief time isn’t linear and some physicists have theorised that every moment of time is happening at once with some fixed points that are inevitable. So it is entirely possible that what leaks through are those fixed points instead of the infinite number of possibilities because, you know, it’s infinite and therefore an infinite number of multiverses form at every single instant so it would be impossible for them to turn up in our universe unless they’re fixed _in_ this universe-”

  “She means ‘yes’,” Hunk says, putting a hand on Pidge’s shoulder. “Why, Allura? Did you see something bad?”

  “I-I’m just curious,” she lies. “I should be going. Thank you, Pidge.”

  She quickly turns away, adding that information to a list of things to mull over when she’s in bed, considering her sleeping patterns are only more likely get worse anyway. What’s one more possible life-changing information?

  All too quickly, she’s arrived at the cell before she even realises, before she’s ready. Lotor is still pale and eyes gaunt but he _feels_ a little better, a little less empty than before. He’s handcuffed to a wall that he sags against and he smiles up at her weakly, eyes shining with elation.

  “Princess,” he says, straightening a little bit.

  Allura doesn’t smile. “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was Lotura heavy and also pretty tense but the next one will be the fluffiest thing ever and it'll be Klance-centric. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! All your support means so much to me. <3


	4. Princess and Paladin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance keeps his promise to Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so blown away by the response on the last chapter so here is the next one not even a week later. :)
> 
> As I promised, 6k words of pure fluff. There's one scene in here that I've wanted to write since I started shipping these two with my heart and soul. 
> 
> Important note at the end.

  Lance’s sword grazes the tip of Keith’s hair, deflected by Keith’s own sword with a _shing_ of metal sliding against metal. A close mark but not close enough. Keith grins and shoves Lance away with his body, spinning to round his sword back onto him but Lance is gone with a flash, appearing on the other side with a strike that Keith dodges easily.

  Lance growls and strikes again and again, sword slashing at air as Keith keeps evading the predictable swings. Lance is unfocused today, movement uncontrolled and careless. His stance is off, the sword swings too wide and he leaves his body exposed too much.

  “That all you got?” Keith taunts, knowing Lance will rise to the challenge and hopefully do better. He deflects a blow that aims for his legs and goes into offense, forcing Lance back with their swords crossed between them.

  Lance’s eyes narrow. “Don’t go crying when I cut your mullet off.”

  “Try me.” With that Keith gives a hard shove and Lance stumbles before he disappears with Kosmo again, ending up a few feet further. He’s definitely improved with using his sword and Kosmo to fight even though this is only the third time he’s been training. His strategy still needs work, especially now when he’s not thinking clearly like usually does.

  When Lance comes for him again, it’s sloppy and off-time, and Keith throws Lance’s sword across the room using his own, the tip of his blade ending up at Lance’s throat.

  Their heavy pants echo as they stay still for a moment, Keith staring down the length of his arm and blade to Lance’s lifeline. Lance is positively salty.

  Keith smirks and reaches up to touch his ponytail, little bits of hair spilling out. “Huh. Guess I still have a mullet.”

  Lance pouts and pushes the sword down with a finger on the flat surface. “One day, Keith. That thing will be gone and you’ll thank me for it.”

  Keith has the greatest urge to kiss the pouting lips so he looks away, deactivating his bayard. “I’m impressed, you know,” he says casually, strolling over to pet Kosmo who wags his tail and presses his head into Keith’s hand. “You’ve gotten better.”

  Lance just rolls his eyes and brings the red bayard into his hand then glares at it. “You don’t have to lie, Keith. I have Kosmo and I still can’t win.”

  Maybe it’s a mistake that Keith has gone to pet Kosmo because now he’s even closer to Lance and he can see so clearly the little beads of sweat that runs down Lance’s temple and neck, hair sticking to his forehead and nape. Keith brings his eyes back to Lance’s blue ones that are still glaring at his bayard as if it has insulted his mother.

  “Isn’t there that saying about Greece and how it took a long time to build?”

  Now the offended face is directed at Keith. “You uncultured swine. It’s ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day’. And they’re completely different things anyway! I’m not trying to build an empire; I’m trying to win a sword fight.”

  “And you’ve had, what? Three rounds training sessions? No one just gets good without practice.” Keith dares to place his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “If you asked me to shoot things from a hundred yards, I might never hit the target no matter how many times I try but you’ll hit without even trying.”

  Lance’s shoulder sags and the frustration in his face eases a little bit. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, Keith. Now let’s go again.”

  Keith shakes his head at the same time Kosmo nudges Lance’s legs as if in agreement. “No, you trying to distract yourself with training isn’t work- Don’t give me that face. I know that’s what you’re doing. Let’s do something else.”

  Lance narrows his eyes again. He’s been in a mood since the facility and that was hours ago. After the debriefing, Pidge and Hunk have decided to dig through Lotor’s tablets more out of the need to keep themselves busy (considering Hunk is banned from the kitchen regarding an incident the other day) than actual curiosity about what’s in it. Keith suspects that’s the main reason Lance has come knocking on Keith’s door – giving him a heart attack in the process – to ask him to train.

  But beating things up to de-stress is Keith’s thing. Lance’s thing is something more like...face masks and spas.

  So it’s another surprise when Lance suggests, “Fine. Let’s go to the gym.”

  Keith almost chokes. Go the gym with Lance, have his eyes pathetically trailing every shift of lithe muscle beneath smooth brown skin splattered with constellations of freckles that Keith _knows_ are there- _No way_ , he thinks. “Alright,” he says.

  Jesus Christ.

  So suddenly Keith finds himself stalking after Lance and Kosmo towards the gym a couple of doors down the hall. At this time of the ‘day’ when most are busy on duty or sleeping, depending on their schedule, the gym is almost empty. Shiro sits on the bench press, wiping his forehead with a towel. A woman Keith recognises from engineering is doing chin-ups. And then there is Curtis on the treadmill across the room from Shiro.

  Keith doesn’t even have time to grimace before Lance punches his arm so hard it actually hurts. Lance, to Keith’s greatest regret, has The Look, the I-just-had-a-brilliant-idea look that definitely means nothing good. Gone is the mope.

  Keith rubs his arm and hisses, “No.”

  “ _Keith_ ,” he hisses back. “Just follow my lead.”

  Lance then saunters in purposefully with a bounce in his step as Keith stumbles after him, hissing at him to _stop it right now or god help me-_

  “Hey, Shiro!” Lance booms.

  Keith groans quietly as Shiro notices them and smiles in greeting. Even Kosmo lets out a whine. Keith has witnessed firsthand what a disaster Shiro is when it comes to romance that it makes _Keith_ look like an expert. Even when he had already been with Adam for years, Shiro still somehow managed to screw up dates with his incoherent nervous bumbling. It’s worse when Keith, one time, tried to help him set up the date where Shiro was going to propose to Adam.

  By some miracle Shiro lost the ring, Keith had accidently placed a pre-order for food with coriander, which Adam was allergic to and Shiro never bothered to inform Keith because he was too busy trying to find a shirt that didn’t make him look like he had man-boobs. This man is an absolute mess that should someone try to help, it becomes worse.

  This is so not going to end well.

  “How’s your workout going?” Lance asks loudly, which does manage to get Curtis to turn his head.

  “Good. I was just about to finish up actually,” Shiro says, rising from the bench.

  Lance grins and peers at Shiro’s human arm. “Nice, nice. Is it just me or did your bicep get bigger? More macho.”

  _Oh my god._

  “Uh...” Shiro trails uncertainly but his eyes flicker to the side just for a second, towards Curtis who’s turned back but probably is listening to the loud conversation Lance is hosting. “Actually I haven’t had much time to work out that much recently.”

  “Ha ha, Shiro, you’re so modest!” Now Lance is just shouting. “Let’s see who can win arm-wrestling between you and Keith, seeing as his twig arms have actually filled out a bit.”

  “What?” Keith says dumbly, looking between Lance and Shiro, who is about as confused as he is but almost as flustered.

  Lance wheels him over with a pointed look that says, _Dude, just do it._ “Arm wrestling, Keith. You know what that is, right?”

  “Of course I know what that-”

  “Great! Come on. I wanna see the two of you battle it out. Not with the robot arm, though. Human ones.”

  Keith is still very confused when he kneels beside the bench with Shiro on the other side, their hands clasped over it, palms gross and sweaty against each other.

  “What’s Lance doing?” Shiro whispers in suspicion and exasperation.

  Lance, at the moment, is looking down at Keith expectantly with a wide smile on his face that’s becoming rarer and rarer nowadays and how is Keith supposed to fight against forces like that? It’s simply not fair. He sighs.

  “I guess he really wants us to arm wrestle.”

  Shiro gives a knowing look that makes Keith’s face heat up. “And you’re going along with it. _Wow_ , Keith. Are you ready to lose?”

  “Bring it on, old man.”

  As it turns out, Shiro does bring it. Keith has never ever won against Shiro in arm-wrestling but the last time they did anything like that was back at the Garrison when he was, as Lance said, a skinny twig. Now Keith likes to think that he has pretty decent arms for a guy his size but Shiro is bigger and older and he lives in the gym when he’s not on the bridge. That is why Keith lost so spectacularly barely ten seconds into the match.

  And okay, maybe Keith was also a little distracted by the fact that Lance was watching and it put unnecessary pressure on him. He’s still salty and glaring at Lance, cradling his hand to his chest.

  “Happy?”

  Lance looks dramatically unimpressed. “Well, that was a waste of two sec-”

  “BAE BAE!” someone shouts down the hall and it sounds suspiciously like when Colleen is mad at Pidge, Matt or Sam.

  Not a moment later, the terrier comes sprinting into the room, skidding across the floor as she tries to charge at Kosmo with something in her mouth, slobbering all the way. Kosmo perks and rushes towards her then both canines disappear with a flash. All of this happens in less than a blink of the eye and by the time Colleen turns up in front of the door, panting, there’s no trace of either wolf or dog and only five puzzled humans are left in the room.

  Colleen growls. “They’re gone, aren’t they? Keith, your dog is an accomplice in theft of my hydro-suction pebbles.”

  “Wolf,” Keith dares to correct quietly. “I’ll, uh, I’ll make sure Kosmo doesn’t steal them again. Sorry, Colleen.”

  “You should check with Hunk,” Lance offers. “They like to take the pebbles to him.”

  Colleen pinches the bridge of her nose as she leaves, muttering, “Thanks, Lance.”

  The room is awkwardly silent after that, which makes the noise coming from Curtis’ treadmill all the more awkward.

  “Should I know about this?” Shiro asks.

  Lance frowns and cuts in before Keith can say a word with a vague wave of his hands. “They just think Hunk likes shiny rocks. Now, arm wrestling.” The shit-eating grin returns. “Do you think anyone on this ship can beat Shiro, Keith?”

  Lance wants him to say something. Keith knows that but he’s completely lost on what he’s supposed to say. “Um... Maybe Allura? She’s pretty strong.”

  That is apparently the wrong thing to say because Lance looks at him like he’s an idiot. He rolls his eyes and makes a show of looking around the room at the two other people who are minding their own business. “Hey, Curtis! Do you want to try a match with Shiro?”

  Shiro’s eyes widen by a fraction in barely-concealed panic as he looks at Keith, the realisation dawning. Keith shrugs.

  Curtis, now flushed from more than just the running, stops the treadmill and glances at Shiro. “I’m-I’m more of a cardio guy than a weight guy. Captain Shirogane will definitely win.”

  “Come on, Curtis!” Lance insists. “Give it a shot.”

  Then he proceeds to go over to the poor guy and physically try to bring him over with an arm around Curtis’ shoulder.

  Meanwhile Shiro whispers to Keith, “You know I’m going to get you back for this, right?”

  Keith sighs internally. The things he endures for Lance. “I know.”

  Lance succeeds in bringing the navigations officer over, not that Curtis has much of a choice locked in Lance’s arm. (How Keith wishes to be in his place right now.) Curtis rubs the back of his neck with an awkward laugh, which makes Keith realise that this guy actually makes Shiro look semi-decent.

  “Do you want to?” Shiro asks, trying very hard to remain professional as he sticks his human hand out between them.

  “Sure you do,” Lance answers, pushing Curtis forward by the shoulders.

  Curtis looks at Keith for a moment, a deer caught in headlights and begging for help as if Keith can actually stop Lance when he’s in full Lance mode.

  When Keith does nothing to him out, Curtis gracelessly grabs Shiro’s hand and all but squeaks, “I guess only my ego will get hurt.”

  Shiro chuckles. “I’m sure you’re stronger than Keith.”

  Okay, that is both smooth and insulting and Keith can’t decide if he wants to be impressed or offended. Has Shiro been practicing in the mirror again?

  “So,” Lance begins, “we’ll just leave you two to get on with it and I’ll just grab Keith because we have a thing to do.”

  “A thing,” Shiro echoes.

  “Yep. We’re gonna, uh... We’re gonna go hog the game console! That’s it. Keith here needs some proper education. Come on.”

  At this point everyone knows what Lance is doing, even Curtis who’s been proven to be quite clueless, and Keith just wants to stick his head in sand as Lance grabs his arm and starts to drag him out of the room. The woman from engineering shakes her head as they pass, then she looks back at Shiro and Curtis. After that she sighs, grabs her stuff and goes out too.

  Keith claps slowly once they’re far enough away from the gym. “Real subtle, Lance. Great job.”

  Lance grins and replies proudly, “Why, thank you, Keith,” bowing to no one with a flourish of hand. “I think that went pretty well considering you nearly screwed it up for me.”

  “Did you have to do that?”

  “Uh, yes? Admit it, Keith, it was genius! Now they get to hold hands.”

  Keith begrudgingly does mumble it under his breath but Lance takes it anyway, preening so brightly that Keith can’t even be annoyed. The plan has worked better than anything Keith has ever come up with, which isn’t much but they were all terrible and generic anyway. He’s never really felt the need to woo anyone and he likes to think that he himself was trying to get someone’s attention, he would probably put more effort in. If Lance is in any way available at the moment, Keith would definitely put more effort in.

  Lance must see a change in his expression because he cocks his head, pursing his lips. “Do you not like Curtis?”

  “What? No, I do.”

  “You don’t seem very excited at the idea of him dating Shiro.”

  “I don’t think many people are good enough for Shiro,” he answers honestly. “Adam was that one person who took care of him when he didn’t take care of himself enough. No matter how much I pretended that I didn’t like him, it’s kind of hard to find anyone who measures up to him.”

  “Yeah but Curtis isn’t Adam. He’s good in his own ways.”

  Keith smiles. “I know. He lets Kosmo sit on him. Even I can’t do that anymore. Trust me, if I didn’t like Curtis, I’d have made it very clear.”

  “You know Shiro doesn’t need your permission to-” Lance cuts himself off, frowning at someone down the corridor. “Is that Jaro?”

  Keith follows his gaze and indeed finds Jaro standing there, looking down at a tablet in his hands, wearing green and brown attire traditional to the Olkari.

  “Did Shiro let him and Zethrid out already?” Lance asks.

  Keith shakes his head. “I haven’t even talked to him about it yet.” Something is odd about the tech that Keith can’t place a finger on.

  “Hey!” Lance calls. “Who let you out?”

  Jaro looks up and around as if he’s trying to pin-point where the sound came from. His eyes pass right over the two of them, and then again more slowly as if he can’t see them. Then he shuts off the tablet and slides it into the folds of his robe, walking forward- right through a wall.

  Lance squeaks and even Keith is startled. Then they look at each other.

  Lance swallows hard, whispering, “Was that a time fracture?”

  “Unless the Olkari can walk through walls, I think it was.”

  “But he heard us!” he whisper-yells. “How did he hear us?”

  Keith says the first thing that comes to mind, “It’s probably just a coincidence. He might have heard something in his own timeline and we happened to be in that direction.” Even he doesn’t believe that.

  Lance, of course, looks sceptical. “I’m gonna quote a very wise tortoise here and say, ‘There are no coincidences.’ And because you’re uneducated, you probably don’t know that classic movie.”

  Keith scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Kung Fu Panda and the quote is, ‘There are no _accidents_.’ I lived in a desert, not under a rock. Come on, Lance. Let’s just shower and then we can play the game.”

  He starts leading them down the hall again, a tiniest bit unnerved and making a mental note to definitely ask Pidge or Slav about this later. Lance catches up easily, keeping pace until they part their separate ways.

  Keith showers quickly, not that he has a choice considering the water cuts off after four minutes. When he meets up with Lance again halfway to the paladin and MFE common room, Lance smells citrusy but flowery, presumably from the soap he’s managed to smuggle onboard. His half wet hair sticks up adorably in every direction and Keith has the urge to run his hand over it.

  Thankfully they arrive before he does something stupid. The room is empty save for Ina sitting at the counter with a hologram glowing in front of her, probably editing Rizavi and Kinkade’s video logs judging by the assortment of sound effects coming from it.

  “Hey, Ina,” Lance says, heading for the vidscreen on the wall. “We’re gonna play Killbot Phantasm so it might get loud.”

  Ina looks up in mild boredom. “I have run some tests on the game. Do you want to know the combination of characters, powers and steps that will let you win in approximately ten minutes?”

  Lance stops fiddling with the remote for the screen and turns to Ina, jaw dropped. “Ten minutes?”

  “Nine minutes and forty-eight seconds, disregarding the variation in loading time.”

  Lance looks like he’s actually considering this so Keith steps in between them. “We’re good, Ina. He’s going to teach me how to play anyway. Thanks though.”

  Ina shrugs, clearing her hologram and grabbing her tablet. “Suit yourself. I’ll go somewhere else...”

  Her words fall away, replaced by blinding whiteness and the silence of a dark room where a hooded person sits, tapping the table.

  When the vision finishes, Keith has the urge to kick a wall for ruining this moment. This deep in the Abyss, it’s more than common to be interrupted by sudden flashes and even through the relief knowing they’re going further and further out, he’s almost gotten used to seeing events that usually meant some sort of emotional distress for someone. The fact that this particular one is about Lotor asking about his mother grates him on many different levels because that used to be him.

  Keith had spent countless nights awake in his bed wondering who his mum was, why she left and if she was ever coming back. It was an aching need that surfaced when he saw other kids with their mums and all he had was one hand to hold and the cold absence of a person without a face or a name. It had haunted him all the way into his late teenage years.

  Keith grinds his jaw.

  Lance, oblivious to Keith’s inner turmoil, groans at the ceiling, glaring. “ _Seriously_ , Abyss? Give me a fucking break.”

  “The Quantum Abyss listens to no one,” Ina says, strolling out. “I estimate about eight more visions before we exist.”

  Neither Keith nor Lance bothers asking her to stay. As brilliantly as she works under pressure, she’s not one for a lot of noise during her own time so they let her stalk out of the room. Plus, Keith kind of wants Lance to himself for a little while. It’s rare to be alone with Lance unless they’re training or they bump into each other in the halls that Keith savours every moment. He’s also finding that being with Lance is a great alternative stress-relief to working himself to exhaustion.

  “Well, she’s fun,” Lance comments then gestures towards the couch.

  He sits Keith down and presses a controller into his hand before flopping right down himself. He leans over as he animatedly explains the buttons and knobs almost too fast for Keith to catch up, especially when their arms are pretty much flushed against each others’, demanding far more of his attention than the controller, Lotor pretty much forgotten.

  “Got it?” Lance asks at the end, looking up so suddenly that Keith feels like he’s been caught staring even though he hasn’t. Much.

  “Yeah,” he answers.

  It might’ve been a lie seeing as the moment the game begins, Keith completely forgets everything Lance has just said, left to try and figure out the controls for himself and failing miserably. His character, a savage princess (he let Lance choose), runs around everywhere but the place Keith wants him to go.

  “Keith, get out of the bush and come help me,” Lance barks.

  After a few moments he finally manages to get to where Lance’s character, a warrior knight, is battling...things. God, Keith has no idea what’s happening or what he’s doing but he presses some random buttons anyway and hope it does something good.

  “Keith!” Lance screams. “You’re attacking my character!”

  “I am?”

  “Yes! Attack the bad guys.”

  But he is! He’s swinging the axe, isn’t he?

  “Oh, my god, get off me!” Lance says.

  “I don’t know how to! You get away from me then.”

  Lance shoves him with his shoulder. “I’m literally trapped between you, the wall and the elves trying to whoop my ass. I _can’t_ move anywhere!”

  Keith growls, pressing some other random buttons. “Fine, I’ll just-”

  “No! No, dude! You’re going to kill me!”

  “Fuck you, Lance. Stop yelling in my ear!”

  “Stop stabbing me then!”

  “I’m not!”

  “Yes, you are!”

  “Well, I’m not trying to!”

  Lance throws his arms out wide as if that will help in any way. But then again, who know? It might help so Keith follows his lead and moves his controller around in the air, just shy of making the same garbled noises Lance is spewing out.

  “Dude, get your character off mine!” Lance says, shoving Keith with his shoulder again. Then he’s leaning over Keith’s lap, a hand reaching for the controller.

  In a state of fresh panicked glory, Keith tries to push Lance away by his face. “I’m try-”

  And then they’re both dead. Keith stops. Lance stops. _Time_ stops as Lance stays frozen with his entire side pushed up against Keith’s and Keith’s palm pressed against smooth warm skin of his face.

  He doesn’t really hear it completely when Lance says, “ _Wow_. Wow, Keith. I got murdered by my own party member.”

  He still knows it’s an insult so he growls lowly. “Well, I’m sorry the stupid character doesn’t go the way I want it to.”

  Something about this sets Lance off and he shakes against Keith’s body, followed by a tiny laughter, then louder and then he guffaws. He’s definitely mocking Keith so he makes a show of half-heartedly elbowing him in the side but his heart is so full and warm. The way Lance laughs with his heart and soul, driven to the point of tears as he clutches Keith’s arm for support, is such a contrast to the sour mood he’s been in since Lotor returned.

  Keith helped him be happy if even for a moment, even at his own expense. The realisation draws a bubble of laughter out of him and even he recognises how pathetically _smitten_ he is as he watches Lance’s eyes crinkle, grinning as he wipes the tears away.

  “You okay there?” Keith asks, making a fist around the rough material of the couch to restrain himself from wiping at Lance’s cheeks which he knows for certain are soft.

  Lance straightens slowly, eyes twinkling. “Oh, man. I can’t believe you’re so bad that you killed your own people.”

  “Yeah, well. I can fight in real life.”

  Lance, bless whatever possessed him, flicks Keith’s nose. “Thank god for that.”

  Keith takes a moment to pull his thoughts away from his nose. “Do you want to play again?” he asks slowly. “I’ll try not to kill you this time.”

  An eyebrow rises. “Do you really want to play?”

  No, not at all. But if it makes Lance happy, he’ll play it a thousand times again. He answers, “If you want. I can’t get any worse, right?”

  Lance thinks for a moment, setting his controller down on the couch beside him. His eyes seem to scrutinise every inch of Keith’s face, which becomes hotter and hotter by the second, and then the blue orbs finally land on Keith’s hair.

  “No,” Keith says. “Don’t even think-”

  “But _Keith!_ ” Lance whines, pouting.

  “You hate my hair!”

  “Well, I- I mean, it’s-” Lance stammers, the tip of his ears dusted red. He settles on, “I do! It’s a mullet. It’s really ugly. But I can make it look not as ugly.”

  Keith makes a face.

  “Please?”

  It’s really not that hard to believe that Lance is the youngest child when he starts making puppy-dog eyes like he _knows_ they are a deadly weapon that not even older siblings can refuse, least of all Keith. He could probably make this face at Honerva and she’d melt at his feet. Zarkon would’ve handed over his entire empire.

  Keith is not overstepping his boundaries if Lance initiates this first, right? That’s the logic he uses to justify gritting out, “One condition. If you braid my hair I get to braid yours.”

  “Mine? But it’s short.”

  “You’re actually starting to grow a mullet too, you know that?”

  Lance throws the exact same unimpressed face back at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now turn around!”

  Keith makes a show of grumbling under his breath as he begrudgingly angles his body so Lance has better access to his hair. Truth be told, Keith doesn’t really mind having his hair played with anymore. The first time he traversed the Abyss with his mum, she’d come to smooth her hand over his hair when she thought he was asleep and Keith didn’t have the heart to tell to stop even if it painfully reminded him of the only other person who’s done that before; his dad.

  When Lance runs his fingers through Keith’s hair, Keith remembers the real reason he’s opposed to specifically Lance doing this. It’s almost too much how gentle he is as he untangles the knots Keith hasn’t bothered with after the shower. It’s definitely too much when his hand brushes against the shell of his ear and his nape when Lance picks up a few strands and starts to weave them together.

  “Your hair is actually really good for someone who uses two-in-one shampoo,” Lance says. “Rachel would be so jealous.”

  Keith hums vaguely distracted by the occasional touches on his skin that he longs for. “Your sister?” he manages to ask.

  “Yeah. She was training to become a hairdresser but you know, Sendak happened. She taught me how to do hair and got me hooked up on skin care too.”

  Lance rests an arm on Keith’s back, creating a line of really enticing heat that Keith wants to lean back into so he can feel it envelop him. Then Lance’s fingers are all over the side of his neck as he tries to pick up little stray pieces of hair and Keith freezes as a dozen shameless fantasies rise, the ones where Lance trails his finger along Keith’s jaw and down his neck, palm splaying against his collarbones as his lips follow his fingers, breath hot against his skin.

  It’s horrible how much Keith wants, how much he longs for a guy who belongs to someone else. It’s perverted. It’s _disrespectful_.

  But he can’t stop his feelings. They aren’t newly realised and difficult to hide. That happened so long ago he can barely remember how he wanted to be with Lance but also avoid him at the same time in case he gave it away, this new and fragile flutter in his chest that could shatter if he breathed wrong. Now, it’s more of a constant humming in his entire being that he’s gotten used to, can ignore if he chooses to and hope that one day it’ll go away without him really noticing.

  The last part has yet to happen. Just as well because even the thought of not loving Lance is a punch in his heart. He’s just grateful that he’s been able to hide his feelings well enough that no one has picked up on it. Except his mum and Shiro but they’re the only ones allowed to know.

  Keith clears his throat, surprised to find his voice still working when he asks, “Are you- Are you nearly done?”

  “Almo- wait. Tell me you have a hair tie on you.”

  Keith searches his pockets. “No.”

  “But my beautiful work of art!” Lance wails. “You might never let me do this again. Hang on, hang on. You have to see this. I got this.”

  Lance shuffles behind him, one hand on Keith’s hair. Then he whips out the camera on his communicator holding it up in front of them. As expected, Keith’s face is a little bit pink. He chooses to focus on the tiny piece of black hair that Lance holds up on one side while the other side is loose hair still too short to bring in. Lance appears in the frame, admiring his work in the camera with a smile. Like this, Keith’s back is almost flushed against Lance’s chest so closely that Keith can feel the body heat, his scent intoxicating.

  “I did good,” Lance praises himself.

  Keith reaches for the camera, angles it a little better and takes the picture.

  “It’ll last longer,” he tells Lance, who looks dumbfounded.

  “You don’t mind that I have blackmail material against you now?”

  “I’ll have some too once I’m done with your hair. It’s my turn now.”

  Lance dramatically wipes away a tear as he lets go of the braid and Keith undoes it. He positions himself so that Keith can reach the back of his head easily. It’s kind of stupid how they’re acting like six-year-old kids playing dress up and if anyone walked in, it’d be super weird. But there’s no way Keith is going to pass up this chance.

  His fingers are just about to reach Lance’s brown locks, slightly curled up at the ends, when the communicator beeps and Keith jumps to the other end of the couch, face flaming.

  Lance smiles. “It’s my family,” he tells Keith and answers the call, putting it on video.

  He greeting his family in Spanish, exchanging a few phrases that are more than Keith knows. On the other end, a group of people are all trying to get into the frame on tip-toes or draping themselves over others. Keith recognises them all from meeting them at the Garrison. There are his parents, Rachel and Marco holding up his niece while his nephew peers up at the camera, trying to get in the frame.

  That’s another thing that makes Lance happy, his family. Keith revels in the sight of Lance animatedly talking to them in rapid fire Spanish, hands gesturing wildly in the air. Really, everything about Lance is a sight to behold even if he’s wearing just an old t-shirt and sweatpants. There’s something so domestic about him slouching on comfortable earth furniture that Keith hasn’t paid much attention to before in the Castle. He should’ve.

  “Say ‘hi’, Keith,” Lance says, abruptly pulling Keith out of his thoughts.

  The camera, Keith finds, is now turned on him while the group of people that’s grown larger with the addition of Luis and his wife all beam at him, the children waving.

  “Uh...” Keith trails with an awkward smile, praying that they hadn’t caught him staring at Lance. “Hi, Lance’s family.”

  Lance scoots closer so that he’s in the frame too. “You’ve met them all, right?”

  “Yeah.” But it doesn’t mean he’s comfortable talking to them.

  Lance’s mum asks, “Has Lance introduced you to Veronica yet, dear?”

  “Oh, my _god_ ,” Lance groans. “Ma, no! I am not letting Keith date my _sister_.”

_What?_

  Lance continues, “She’s got a girlfriend anyway!”

  Rachel gasps, “ _Es Acxa, ¿verdad?_ ”

  Keith has no idea what the comment about him and Veronica is but as Lance, Rachel and Marco debate the mystery of their sister and Acxa’s friendship/relationship he wants to raise a hand and clear his name once and for all with, _Excuse me, I am gay._

  But he just keeps quiet as the conversation slides back into Spanish and Keith loses track of it, just listening to Lance. It’s not until the name Lotor is mentioned and Lance’s face darkens that Keith realises where it’s gone. Nowhere good.

  Lance’s face is still dark even as he musters up a smile and blows a kiss at the screen before the call ends.

  “Are you okay?” Keith asks, watching Lance turn off the communicator and shove it into his pocket.

  He shrugs. “Veronica’s told them about how Lotor is Allura’s ex. I just wasn’t a fan of what some of them were insinuating. Particularly Marco.” He throws his head on the back of the couch, sliding down further. “Look, I get that he’s worried about me getting hurt but it kind of stings, you know?”

  Keith chooses his next words carefully. “Are _you_ worried?”

  Lance closes his eyes, jaws ticking.

  “Lance?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you don’t have to be. There’s a reason Lotor is in a cell right now and you’re Allura’s boyfriend.”

  Lance opens an eye. “I know Allura won’t leave me, Keith. It’s Lotor I’m worried about. Did you see the way he looked at her?”

  He’s pretty sure everyone did. “Allura will throw him across the ship again if he tries anything and I promise I’ll flush him out an airlock.” And Keith is dead serious about it. No one hurts his friends twice and live.

  “You don’t understand,” Lance insists. “Lotor’s words are more dangerous. He had us all wrapped around his claws. Even I didn’t see past his lies and I never liked him at any point in time.”

  Keith can’t say much, not when he’s beginning to question his own stance on the matter and a twinge of guilt gnaws at him.

  Lance looks at him through his lashes, defeated. “Why did he have to come back, Keith?”

  Because the universe is cruel. Because the universe is kind. Because Lotor’s journey isn’t over. Keith can give a thousand reasons and all or none of them might be true. But he knows this. “It doesn’t matter why, Lance. We don’t have many answers and there’s not a lot that we can do. But we have to put our mind to more productive things than worrying about him.”

  Lance shakes his head. “Look, Keith. When Lotor came into the equation for the first time, I thought I had no chance anymore and I was ready to accept that. But now I finally have something good with Allura, something I’ve wanted since forever and I’m scared that it won’t work.”

  He keeps looking at him, more and more crest-fallen by the minute. Keith doesn’t have the heart to keep looking so he sighs and turns to the screen that’s still displaying GAME OVER.

  “Alright,” he says. “How about we go and interrogate him again? I’ll be good cop. You be bad cop.”

  As expected, this draws a reaction out of Lance in the form of a raised eyebrow. “We can’t interrogate without Shiro’s permission.”

  “Fine. We’ll _talk_ to him and _politely_ ask him what his intentions with Allura are and make it clear, _gently_ , that we won’t hesitate to skewer him with our swords.”

  Lance considers for a moment, staring intensely at his lap. Keith doesn’t actually want to talk to Lotor. He doesn’t have his thoughts in order yet, still has no idea what to think. But if this in any way would help Lance feel less insecure then he’d do it. He’d do it for anyone.

  “Okay,” Lance says, sitting up with determination shining in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

  Keith stands and offers a hand. Lance takes it and pulls himself up.

  “We’ll show Lotor who’s the boss.”

 

  Despite the gravity of the situation, a selfish part of Keith mourns the moment he never got to run his fingers through Lance’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, I have some not so great news. I was able to crank out this chapter in about a week but that's because I crammed it all into the days before uni started.
> 
> Now that I have started, that's basically like having a full-time job, plus I have other commitments, so the usual 7-8k chapters will probably come down to more manageable 3-4k every fortnight or so, which means higher chapter count probably. I'm sorry about that.
> 
> I'm sad that I can't focus on the story as much as I would like to but I'll try keep to this schedule. Thank you for understanding. 
> 
> I really hope you liked this chapter. The next part, the real angst begins.
> 
> Throughout the weeks, I'll be posting snippets of the next chapters on Tumblr so if you want to read those in advance, you can check out my tumblr @[hano-does-fandoms](https://hano-does-fandoms.tumblr.com)


	5. The Way Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Atlas makes its way out of the Abyss, Allura has a much-needed conversation with a former ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support and understanding last chapter. I couldn't get around to replying to all your comments but I read each and every one and I appreciate every single one. <3
> 
> This chapter is a direct continuation of chapter 3.

  “We need to talk.”

  Lotor nods, movement slow and languid as if it is all he can handle. “Of course.”

  Allura breathes deeply in vain attempt to quiet her flittering thoughts, pulling them in order to little avail. “Were you ever going to tell me?” She sounds more hurt than she means to but if Lotor has any sort of empathy, she hopes it hurts him too.

  Yet she is not prepared when Lotor’s face indeed falls as he answers, “I was, princess. I planned to tell you once I was able to revive them. I’ve always wanted you to meet your people so you would not feel alone anymore.”

  _I still do, despite everything_. There was a time when she hadn’t felt so alone, so lost but the moment hadn’t lasted very long.

  She folds her arms across her chest, refusing to let any sort of new feeling surface. Instead she lets the passive anger fuel her words. “And I suppose Keith and Romelle ruined your plan.”

  “No, Allura. Had I handled the situation better, it would’ve been my chance to finally explain myself. They opened for me a conversation I was terrified to open myself.”

  Allura loathes the sincerity in his voice and the look in his eyes, begging for her to believe. She’s had more than her fair share of heartfelt words and glances today and she cannot stand seeing it on Lotor’s face because it is jabbing reminder that plucks at the stiches in her heart. So her next words are clipped and laced with more venom than she intends. “Terrified of what? That we would see you for what you really are?”

   Lotor shakes his head slowly, light glinting off the scars on his face. “I was terrified of losing you.”

  That finally shakes her enough to draw out an ember of something buried deep in the darkest parts of her soul, a flicker in the void. It’s a sort of paralysis that forces her to watch helpless as her mind starts to conjure everything she regrets.

  Lotor takes her dumbstruck, idiotic silence as a sign to continue and surely, _surely_ he is aware of everything his words are putting her through, the hurt and pain seeping through the numbness. “In the ten thousand decaphoebs of my existence no one has ever cared for me the way you did. You brought out the best of me, Allura.  I started to realise that no matter the cause behind my actions, they were still wrong. I... I was ashamed to tell you.”

Allura thinks, _You were an idealist, Lotor, not a fool. Had you so little humanity that you could bear to do such a thing for a miniscule chance at something near-impossible?_

She only asks, “How could you do it?”

  A haunted gaze glasses over his eyes as he says gravely, “A Xornian robin raised in a nest of vultures will learn to eat the dead too. I am the robin, Allura. There are great and many things I have done and regret with every breath I take, things I cannot take back.” Then he adds in determination, “But I can begin to fix my mistakes.”

  “Some mistakes cannot be fixed. Trust, once broken, cannot be fixed.”

  Lotor looks up at her, shoulders dropping inch by inch until he is almost slouching, the most casual position she’s ever seen him assume, a large contrast to the regal, princely stature he holds even in captivity. Now all of that is gone, washed away by the defeat on his face. “You do not believe me.”

  “I made the mistake of believing you once. It is a mistake I cannot undo.”

  “Allura, _please_ ,” he pleads, leaning forward so that the chain of his cuffs clinks against the wall. “You saw the proof of my intention. I would not hesitate to trade every drop of quintessence for that sliver of chance you would give me.”

  Seeing him beg like this hurts in a different sort of way so Allura glares down at her feet. This is not the direction she wanted to take this conversation. It was meant to give her answers, give her a clue on where to stand in this whole mess, not make her feel more conflicted than she began with.

  Still, she thinks of the tablet full of children’s drawings and how he had found Ezor and Acxa’s mothers out of his own will – she’d overheard Keith’s conversation with them, much to her irritation. What benefits could he possibly have reaped for himself by doing either? And then Allura thinks that maybe...she began this conversation ready to blindly reject anything Lotor had to say. Maybe she isn’t being fair. Maybe she should give him that sliver of a chance.

  Maybe she should’ve done that a long time ago and things would not have escalated the way it did.

  She sighs, arms dropping back to her side and hands balling into fists. “I am grateful that you helped the four Alteans come back. But it is not definitive proof that this is not part of some larger scheme I’m playing right into again.”

  “It is not a scheme, Allura. It never was a scheme.”

  She looks at him, more tired and hurt than she’s prepared for the day. “Then what was Oriande, if not a way to use me?”

  “ _Use_ -” he starts and then all but splutters as if in disbelief. “ _Never_ , Allura. Far from it. Oriande was the place we were both meant to connect to a part of Altean culture that’s been lost for ten millennia. Instead, I realised that you and I are different. Where you are pure and giving, I am violent and greedy. It is when I realised that I am not and may never be a true Altean.”

  Allura rolls her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches Lotor’s crestfallen face, chest tight like her heart is expanding against her ribcage. “Did being Altean mean so much to you?”

  “I hear stories and legends about Altean explorers who travelled to distant galaxies, spreading knowledge and gaining in return. They bettered the lives of thousands of civilisations and welcomed any and all races on their planet. For someone who never truly belonged anywhere, it was a haven to discover that maybe there is a place for me and what I believed in. Yes, Allura. Being Altean was supposed to be my salvation.”

  “Yet you were upset to discover your heritage.” Tears had pooled in his eyes as soon as he left the Archivist’s abode.

 “You saw,” he says like he was hoping she hadn’t. He grimly casts his gaze to a corner. “I was young when I visited the Archivist. Young, arrogant and naive for someone who’s outlived all but every Galra. I never quite understood why my father hated me so much. Discovering the true reason is a pain I can never quite forget because I realised that nothing I did would ever dull his hatred.

  “Finding the Alteans was as much an act to preserve our near extinct culture as it was homage to a mother that might’ve given me some solace.”

  Allura remembers his bitter rejection to the idea that Haggar might’ve been Honerva. She’d known then that she’d struck a nerve and didn’t want to bring him more pain than he surely must’ve already been subjected to. But she could not say that she wasn’t curious and the picture is slowly coming into focus now. “You did not know Haggar was Altean?”

  He shakes his head, frowning at the name in distaste. “Not for a long time after, not until Zarkon destroyed planet Xornia and she watched with me as the planet burned. Later, she said something she might not have realised, ‘The first turned to ash like this.’”

  Altea.

  Lotor sees the understanding in her eyes and he nods. “I figured that Zarkon kept her around because this is what remained of his wife, my mother Honerva. This sickly crone who didn’t even know herself, much less her own son.” His shoulders sag. “How lucky you are, Allura, to have had a family.”

  Allura tells herself that giving him a chance to explain is one thing. She should’ve expected to hear things she doesn’t want to, if only so she can keep the image she has of Lotor, the one who could bear to drain hundreds of their life force. She wills herself to not fall for this again but the determination feels hollow as if it is a battle already won where she is not the victor. She says in resignation, “If you never used those people, you might’ve had one too.” _With me._

  He answers quietly, “I know.”

  Allura takes a step back and swallows the lump in her throat just to physically distance herself from the broken answer. Because she can’t help herself, because they’ve already started down this road anyway, she asks, “Did you mean any of the things you said to me?” She’s not sure she wants to know the answer.

  “I meant every word.”

  And she’s right. Her heart aches in memory of a time when they were something beautiful, something akin to a sunrise over the longest, darkest night. She takes a moment to steady herself, to pull herself together into some semblance of composure. “Yet none of those occurred to you when you were trying to kill us?”

  Lotor looks at his feet and whispers, “No.”

  The simplicity of the answer catches her off guard again and she waits and waits for more but nothing follows. _Say something. Please. Explain so I might understand._ Silence meets her unspoken pleas. “Your anger shadowed anything you felt for me.”

  “No,” he repeats quickly. Then he pauses, faltering. “I... Yes,” he breathes in pained admission. “It clouded my judgement. In that moment I thought of how my father destroyed countless peoples, how he destroyed my mothers’ people and tried to erase every last remnant of Altea. I was just beginning to accept that in my desperate quest to be better, I’d ended up just like my father. To hear another confirm my worst fears, I was furious at myself for the person I became. I unleashed it upon you and the paladins, who do not deserve such violence.”

  Allura almost flinches as she remembers the bitter words she’d spat at him that day but she won’t let him see that. Instead, she says, “No, we did not.”

  “I would be a fool to hope that I can ever be what I once was to any of you.”

  “Then why did you come back?”

  “Because I have nowhere else to go.”

  Another simple, simple answer and yet it holds so much pain and regret that the force of it slams into Allura’s heart, piercing right through it. She had to face it.

  She is still heartbroken. To deny that she ever loved Lotor would be to lie to herself. He took all the love she gave, stomped on it and threw it back at her face. He dangled hopes and promises of a better universe, of peace and shredded the strings. Maybe it’s wrong that she feels more hurt about that than anything else. Maybe it’s weak that she has not moved on completely even after months but it’s true.

  She still feels for Lotor. Maybe not what she once felt but she still feels for the man with a heart behind horrible, misguided actions; she still feels for the man who might’ve made a difference.

  _They_ might’ve made a difference.

  If she’d just given him that chance...

  Allura forces her hands to unclench by her sides and clenches her jaw instead. “Give me one reason why I should let you stay.”

  Lotor stares at her, the light in his eyes fading little by little, stripping with it any feature of neutrality she might’ve schooled onto her face. Eventually he answers quietly, “I have only my heart and soul to offer. They are yours to do as you please, princess.”

  She could take that heart and stab it a thousand times until it is in shreds. She could take his soul and snuff it out like a light. She thinks she might but she looks at him, staring up at her like that, like the way Keith looked at Lance, and she can’t.

  She looks away and settles on grating out, “I have no need for your heart and soul.” Except to perhaps give to Honerva. But she can’t. She _won’t_. She is better than that. “I am not convinced of your intentions and I cannot wager your value in this war. But I will make it clear now that should you find yourself on the wrong side again, I will not fear using any power the universe may grant me this time. Do not throw away this chance.” _Please._

  Lotor nods, ghost of a smile appearing on his lips like he can see the desperation in the words she isn’t saying. _Prove to me that you are on our side. Prove to me that there is still good in you._ “I will not let you down this time, Allura. I promise.”

  She will hold those words to heart and she will not let him take those back this time. Whether it is a mistake to place so much trust in him again only time will tell – or not. But for now, Allura holds his gaze for _one, two, three_ seconds and the intensity is too much so she clears her throat.

  “One more thing. Lance is right to be cautious of you after last time. Please be civil towards him.”

  Lotor’s growing smile falters at the mention of Lance’s name. “As you wish, princess. But please advise him that civility is a two-way path. I...understand that he cares for you, Allura, and his hostility is warranted but if you could allow him the chance to change and grow, perhaps he could allow me that chance too.”

  Allura nods curtly. “I shall let him know.”

  She turns to walk off before anyone else sees her here. She thinks she’s ticked all the boxes on the list but it’s hard to tell. It’s all so much that it may take her days to sort through the past few vargas. Lotor, Alteans, Keith, Lance, Honerva.

  But just before she passes his cell, she pauses. Lotor perks, waiting.

  She tells him, “A robin may learn to eat the dead but it is still a robin.”

  She doesn’t wait for his reaction. She’s down the hall and around the corner in two raging heartbeats, all but sagging against the walls as she drags herself along. She knows she didn’t need to say it but it leapt out of her unfiltered and unrestrained.

  No. No, she doesn’t fully believe what he claims. She cannot allow him that yet. But try as she might to resist, some sadistically hopeful part of her wants to be able to, so desperately.

  She longs to talk to her mother, hold her tight and lay her heart open. Queen Melenor always knew exactly what Allura needed to hear no matter how difficult it is. All those times Allura had taken for granted, all those times she’d rejected her mother’s advice – what she would give to hear her wisdoms again.

  “Allura?”

  She jumps high into the air, a hand at her chest. There are Lance and Keith at the mouth of a corridor that leads to Zethrid’s cell, looking at her strangely. Then she realises she’s still in the hall that leads to Lotor. Her heart leaps into her throat, face flaming.

  “L-Lance,” she stammers, pulling on a smile. “What are you two doing here?”

  Keith answers slowly, “We were coming to talk to-”

  “Jaro,” Lance cuts off with an awkward chuckle, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We, uh, we thought we saw him up there a few minutes ago. Keith wanted to come check on them. You know how he is.” He steers a frowning Keith by his shoulders into the direction. “He’s deadly serious about ship security and stuff, you know? Well, we- We’re just gonna be going now. Bye, ‘Lura!”

  Allura stares as the two disappear. Something is definitely going on but she doesn’t particularly care what, only that the spotlight is no longer on her and her hand is not in the ‘cookie jar’ anymore, as Colleen usually says.

  But Lance is smart and so is Keith. They would undoubtedly put together that she’s talked to Lotor. She’s not even sure why she cares that they know. Pidge and Hunk know. They’re all allowed to know and she’s allowed to speak to whomever she wishes. This is not a secret, she tells herself.

  She keeps repeating it as she scurries up to the upper levels.

~

  “Are you okay?” Keith asks once they’ve started to stalk towards Zethrid’s cell and Allura’s footsteps have faded.

  Lance kind of wants to lie and say ‘yes’ and Keith would see right through that half-assed fib. At this point he’s not really even sure he wants to answer because what’s the point? Keith already knows. “Not really,” he says anyway, looking dead ahead towards the empty corridor.

  Keith, good friend that he is, tries to reassure him with, “She must have had questions about the Alteans. You know she’d do anything for her people, including talking to Lotor again.”

  “It’s fine,” Lance says but it sounds extremely not fine. It sounds like everything he doesn’t want has already come flooding out the gates. Which is really stupid. Allura has every right to do what she wants and if that’s coming to see Lotor, then that’s okay. It doesn’t mean anything.

  And yet her surprise to see him and Keith down here feels a little too...disheartening, like she wasn’t expecting to see them, like she didn’t really want them to see.

  Lance sighs. “You don’t have to keep trying to make me feel better every time I feel like shit.”

  “Isn’t that what friends do?”

  Keith is looking at him with a tiny, lop-sided smile on his lips that tries so hard to spread to Lance. Eventually it succeeds because Keith trying to cheer people up? That’s a sight that even Lance’s anxieties can’t diminish because it’s both awkward and real. “All right,” Lance relents but there’s still a knot in his chest.

  Keith nods, satisfied with the response. “Good because I don’t want to see my friends tip-toeing around each other. This team needs trust. _Relationships_ need trust. And I know this is weird coming from a guy who’s never really dated anyone properly but if there’s anything I’ve learnt in the past three years, it’s that communication is key for everything. Talk to her.”

  Talk to Allura? After that entire fiasco when he rambled on like an idiot – being completely obvious, mind you – and _she_ was clearly trying hard to disappear from the spot, it’s going to take every bit of courage for him to try to face Allura again and it still wouldn’t prepare him for the worst case scenario.

  But that’s thinking so lowly of Allura and she’d never do that to him.

  Lance asks, “What about talking to Lotor?”

  Keith looks back at the entrance to the corridor that leads to Lotor’s cell and decides, “That can wait. You and Allura are more important.”

  For some reasons that hits Lance right in the guts because the old Keith wouldn’t do that. He’d be all about diving into interrogation with very little thought about anything or anyone else. Hearing Keith say that now is...jarring and yet it eases him inside a little. “Sometimes it’s really weird when you’re being that nice to me.”

  Keith blinks and then he stares for a while, looking as if something is on the tip of his tongue. “So you’ll go after Allura?”

  Lance gets the feeling that’s not what he was going to say. He doesn’t have the energy to press. “Yeah, I will.” Later, when he doesn’t run the risk of saying the wrong things because this is a fragile topic that he has no experience handling. Too many variables, as Pidge would say.

  “What are you waiting for?” Keith asks, nodding in the direction Allura has disappeared towards.

  He doesn’t look like he’s taking no for an answer so Lance nods. “Right. Yes. I’m gonna...go. Thanks, buddy.”

  Lance does trudge off but he ends up at the shooting range.

~

  The next day and a half goes by with Lance avoiding people in general. He talks to Veronica at meal times or just lingers by her station on the bridge for a few minutes as he assesses the way Shiro and Curtis hunch over the desktop a little too closely, doing God knows what. He thinks of trying to find Pidge and Hunk but for some reasons Slav seems to be there all the time and that’s really not something Lance can handle.

  Green socks and purple crayons. Apparently Curtis has actually made him green socks out of a shirt.

  Yeah, no. Slav drives Lance crazy. Keith is MIA for the most part, apparently spending time with his mum or Acxa, but Lance is fine not having to fully face him. He’s not sure how he can break it to the guy that he hasn’t talked to Allura yet, partly because Allura is always either in the infirmary or with the Alteans in the cells below. At least he’s not actively avoiding her. He’s waved to her in passing and exchanged a few words like, “How are they?” and “Their conditions are improving.”

  It seems that neither of them really wants to acknowledge what happened the day prior. That’s fine with him.

  It’s also a relief to know that the visions become less often the further they go out from the Abyss but Ina is right; there are eight more, one of them with the Black lion and Alteans but it’s hard to discern where exactly. But Black definitely had his particle barrier up so that probably isn’t good.

  What’s also not good are the time-leaked people. Lance can’t go two hours without bumping into one. He doesn’t dare make a sound near them because he’s alone and he’s definitely not equipped to handle something like the Jaro incident again. ( _Coincidence_ , his ass.)

  “Lance,” Acxa says over the _pew-pews_ of his blaster.  She stands in the door of the shooting range, her gown gun in her hand. “You’ve been here for a while.”

  “Oh, sorry. Did you want to use the room?”

  “No, Keith is wondering where you are.” She says that like she knows he’s avoiding him. Did Veronica say something? But Veronica wouldn’t know either, would she?

  “Um. Did he say what he wants me for?” he asks.

  “The ship just exited the Abyss. He thought you might want to see it.”

  Right. The Jenny Evans of the cosmos. “Nah,” he says, a little bit too nonchalantly. “I’ve seen prettier nebulas that are way less dangerous. This is-”

  A giant bang cuts him off, throwing him against a wall as the Atlas suddenly careens sideways, his blaster digging into his ribs. Then the wall begins to glow a faint violent as alarms scream, the ship groaning in protest, trembling violently against his side.

  His heart drops. His eyes meet Acxa’s.

  “The robeasts,” she muttered, confirming his fears.

  Shiro’s voice comes immediately over the PA, ordering everyone to battle stations. Lance is already taking off before Shiro finishes saying, “Paladins, to your lions!”

  Red’s urgent whines echo in his mind and heart, speeding up his sprint to the hangers as he dodges the onslaught of people in the corridors, thrown about by the jerking movements of the Atlas.

  Keith is already there, suited and ready, and he gives Lance a nod of encouragement. The others are moments behind and all the lions are out within seconds. Lance doesn’t register the adrenaline anymore.

  At the moment he knows the enemy, he knows his objective.

  Or he thinks he does.

  But that’s not one robeast out there, there are _three_ with sickles driven into the Atlas, draining its quintessence. Two seem unfinished, missing pieces of armour in shoulders and shins and even the whole side of the head like some gruesome giant robotic zombies with peeling flesh. One of them is different, darker in colour with a ring of halo on its head and wings like shards of glass.

  “That’s Honerva,” Allura breathes in realisation. “It’s an ambush. She’s been waiting for us.”

  “Guys, the Atlas is pinned,” Pidge says urgently, drawing the attention to the ship in question.

  Keith cries, “We need to form Voltron!”

  Lance has never agreed to anything more and he really, really hates that Voltron seems to take _forever_ to form that by the time Lance is a right arm, Shiro’s voice is barely transmitting to them anymore and-

  Holy mother of hell, the angel robeast is coming for them. Keith forms the sword with his bayard, blocking the sickles from digging into Voltron. All Lance sees up close and personally is the arm of the robeast but Keith’s words of caution and Pidge’s terrifying little war cry echoes around Red’s cockpit as she blasts with Green.

  For a moment, Lance thinks Honerva would try another tactic as she gets out of the line of fire but that doesn’t happen. Instead, she lets the blast throw her off in an almost dazed fashion, unsteadily rocking. Something is different.

  “We need to help the Atlas,” Hunk says. “It can’t take any more.”

  Pidge pipes, “What we need is a plan.”

  “Watch out!” Allura yells as Honerva’s robeast charges for them again, swinging its sickles around.

  Lance keeps deflecting each hit, the force of them knocking against his skull and teeth. These are wild slashes with a ton of force and very little strategy. It’s working in keeping Voltron busy while the other two sucks the Atlas dry but something is definitely off about this and Lance doesn’t have time to put his finger on it as he pushes against the sickles.

  “Three robeasts and we’ve got nothing but Voltron,” Hunk says, wavering in panic. “I don’t like the odds, guys. Keith, what do we do?”

  “We distract the robeasts long enough for the Atlas to transform.”

  Lance adds, “We can lead Honerva towards the other two and use her to throw them off.”

  “Good idea, Lance. Let’s do this!”

  Lance doesn’t even have time to revel in the pride from the compliment, doesn’t even have time to start flying for the Atlas before the two robeasts open fire from their chest cannons and everything goes black.

~

  The world comes back in fuzzy spots that shift in and out of focus, a shrill ring screaming in his ear. Red’s worry and underlying pain slowly starts to seep in as Lance regains consciousness to disabled dashboards and a dark cockpit. The static buzz of the radio is far too loud in his ear, grating against his eardrums.

  He groans, righting himself. It’s like he’s been hit by a spaceship, which actually sounds about right. Red’s purr wraps around him like a blanket of comfort. _I’m fine, girl_ , he reassures her, gently patting the dash.

  “Paladins, come in,” Shiro says over the fizzing radio channel.

  “Lance here,” he says. “Is everyone okay?”

  “Yeah but Green is offline,” Pidge answers.

  “Yellow too,” Hunk pipes.

  “And Blue. The blast managed to tear Voltron apart.”

  Sure enough, Lance sees the three lions floating in his window. The Atlas, transformed, comes into view and starts to guide them inside with giant hands.

  Hunk groans long and loud. “What happened? How did we survive that?”

  “ _Did_ we survive that?” Pidge asks. “Green has never been this banged up before. I think she’s used up her reserves too.”

  There’s that ominous feeling again, setting deep in the pit of Lance’s stomach but it’s a different sort this time. Over the radio Shiro is saying something about the Atlas and Honerva and wormholes but Lance doesn’t hear it as he realises something.

  “Keith, come in,” he says, heart racing. There’s no reply and no Black lion in sight. “Does anyone have eyes on Black?”

  Pidge swears as she realises too. “Where is he?”

  From inside Red’s cockpit, an unfamiliar voice answers, “Honerva took the Black lion and its paladin.”

  Lance leaps out of his seat, bayard active and ready to fire at the intruder. Then he almost drops his blaster as he realises who stands before him.

  King Alfor of Altea, original paladin of the Red lion.

 

 

 

  Keith slips in and out of consciousness. He’s aware of the bright lights that pierce through his eyelids and something tight around his wrist and his ankles. He hears muffled voices that slither past too low and too fast for him to catch. Pain flares with every shift of his muscles, sharp spikes that he feels everywhere.

  When he finally comes to, he hears someone say something along the lines of, “The paladin is awake.”

  There’s a ruffle of movement and thudding footsteps.

  Keith has no idea where he is, how he got here or what happened at all but he feels Black’s seething anger and concern in a way he’s never felt before. He feeds him images of Voltron and Atlas and Honerva. Keith can’t quite string them together to make coherent events but he figures it can’t be good, seeing as he can’t move and is probably strapped to a table.

  He dares to open his eyes, going temporarily blind from the light above. Then someone comes into view, fuzzy and misshapen but the figure slowly comes into focus; a silhouette of a gaunt woman with empty eyes.

  In her hands, she holds a glass container that houses a little purple thing that frantically darts around. _Bad_ , his brain supplies.

  “Let us begin,” she says.

  She reaches for his head...

 ...and the world is an array of blue.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be fun to write. >:)
> 
> That being said, I hope to get it up within a fortnight but pre-med is a pain in my butt so I apologise in advance if I don't make it on time.   
> You can come scream at me on tumblr @[hano-does-fandoms](https://hano-does-fandoms.tumblr.com)


	6. Unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance deals with the aftermath of a battle that took a paladin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only half of what was originally meant to be chapter 6 but I decided to cut it because:  
> 1\. it's getting too long  
> 2\. I haven't updated in a month  
> 3\. the second half contains a vital piece of the story that I really want to get right and do some justice for all characters involved.
> 
> So for now, please enjoy this little piece. :)

  “King Alfor,” Lance whispers, half afraid that Alfor might actually respond to him. “Are you...here?”

  “I am. As are the others.”

  Allura’s voice fizzles over the radio, “Father!” And then in a far more confused tone, “Blaytz?”

  Pidge and Hunk’s gasps follow and one guess what they’re seeing too.

  “What’s going on?” Shiro asks, which is a very good question.

  Lance can’t stop staring at the king in his paladin armour, helmet tucked beneath an elbow. This means that Lance wasn’t seeing time-leaked Alfor the other day. Alfor _was_ there. Has he been here the whole time? That’s an unsettling thought.

  “Oh, no,” Pidge says gravely. “The fractures are worse than we thought if you guys can see and talk to us too.”

  An unfamiliar woman’s voice corrects her. “This is no ordinary circumstance, little one. Our spirits are one with the lions. The destruction of the space-time continuum interferes with their trans-reality matrix, allowing us to take corporeal forms once more, at least within our own lions.”

  Lance’s mind scrambles to catch up. “Wait, so you guys _are_ the lions?”

  “No, we’re not,” Alfor answers. “In our final moments ten thousand decaphoebs ago, the lions preserved our spirits inside so Honerva could not exploit them. That is how we were able to evade Honerva’s grasp now, at least with what little power that remained.”

  Lance puts two and two together and realises, “Black didn’t have a paladin.” Zarkon died and surely Black didn’t preserve _his_ spirit. 

  “But that doesn’t make sense,” Pidge says. “Why did she only take Black? Her robeasts are strong enough to overpower all the lions.”

  “She took him when the Atlas was transforming,” Shiro says and Lance barely hears it anymore. “A wormhole opened and Honerva went for Black while...”

  It all becomes a different thing, barred by a fuzzy layer that mutes the conversation. He sees King Alfor staring at him in concern, as real as he can be, and somehow that’s Keith in his red paladin armour asking if Lance is okay. No, he’s not. He’s numb and hollow and his chest is about to collapse.

  Lance doesn’t even notice when Red is finally within the Atlas and she purrs softly into his mind as if she’s trying to reassure. A paralysing sense of calm washes over him as he continues to fixate his eyes on King Alfor. In the back of his consciousness, chatter still passes over the comms in debates and explanations that Lance doesn’t quite hear.

  “There’s something wrong with Honerva’s robeast,” he says. “With all of them.”

  The lines go quiet. “What do you mean?” Hunk asks.

  Lance starts pacing the narrow space in the cockpit, suddenly filled with the urge to _do_ something. “Well, every time we’ve fought them, they were all pretty strategic and they knew exactly what they were doing to take us down. These ones were pretty messy and they weren’t even finished being built! Didn’t you see how Honerva’s robeast flew out of control sometimes?”

  Everyone is still quiet and Lance realises how loud he’s gotten, how he’s started to ramble so frantically that he’s almost shouting. He feels it in how fast his thoughts flitter, how his foot taps on the floor.

  Alfor’s silent stare starts to become unnerving and Lance has the urge to snap, “ _What?_ ”

  Shiro exhales a long breath. “How about we take this into debrief?”

~

  When Lance leaves Red, a group of people are waiting in the hanger. Sam, Matt and Colleen race to Pidge and Hunk, pulling them into a group embrace in relief and joy that they survived this. Coran and Romelle are by Allura’s side, immediately spew questions at her. Veronica and Kosmo come crashing into Lance, fussing over him but that’s all a distant thing as Allura leaves Coran and Romelle distractedly to approach Lance. Her eyes ask for permission. When he gives her a nod, she disappears up Red’s ramp.

  Then he catches sight of the one person who still stands near the hanger doors. Krolia, staring at the big empty space the Black lion should’ve been, where her _son_ should’ve been. Her face doesn’t give away anything. No, she’s too much like Keith for that. It’s the tremble of her fingers as she turns away.

~

  Allura steps into the lion, tentative and heart soaring. It is dark inside and she shuffles in with a hand on the walls but she doesn’t need the guidance. The memory of the Red’s entire layout is still fresh in her mind and she knows every bump and corner, all the buttons and ridges. The hand on the wall is simply to keep her knees from giving out as she reaches the cockpit.

  Standing before her is the father she’d said goodbye to twice now, once in a haze as fire tore down her planet and the other shattering in her arms like the illusion it was. But it is not now.

  Her father, as real as he has been in ten thousand decaphoebs, waits for her with his arms wide open. Allura can’t help it. She collapses into her father as tears fall.

  For the first time in forever, she’s finally _home_.

~

  Keith’s absence is jarring and cold in the conference room and Lance can’t stop staring at the vacant spot Voltron’s leader should be. Yet the elephants in the room don’t get acknowledged until the end of debrief.

  1. Honerva knew they were in the Quantum Abyss. She’d been waiting. Whether it’s related to Lotor is ‘apparently’ difficult to judge but Lance thinks it’s pretty clear since _he_ was the one so adamant on traversing the goddamned journey.
  2. Honerva’s robeasts are unfinished but she definitely has more up her evil sleeves. The pilots are pretty shit though.
  3. She settled for one lion only. Either it’s a small part of a larger scheme or she wanted Black specifically, the lion her husband piloted. Lance puts his money on the former; he just can’t piece the puzzle together.
  4. The old paladins have come back. According to Slav, they will remain as long as time continues to fracture. At least everyone else seems excited, if a little nervous, to be able to talk to the paladins of legend who defended the universe so long ago. Lance feels like he would be more thrilled if not for the fact below.
  5. Keith is in Honerva’s hands.



  Lance buries his face in his hands.

  “How long until the lions are battle-ready?” Shiro asks. His hair is dishevelled from running his fingers through it constantly before he came into the meeting, freaking out about Keith behind scenes. Lance has a feeling he wasn’t supposed to see that episode where he stared at a wall, hands on his head.

  Pidge’s glasses glint under the orange light of her hologram. “About four quintents but that won’t bring them to full power, just enough for one fire-fight. Trigel says there is a way to manually speed up the recharge process.”

  “How long then?” Lance asks.

  “She estimates about two and a half quintents but that’s a huge drain on our quintessence because we’ll be in the astral plane for hours.”

  “That’s one and a half days less of Keith with some psychopath.”

  God, he’s getting snappy again and he knows it. This meeting has gone on so much longer than his current patience level can take and yet they haven’t gotten anywhere past diagnostics of the ships, the situation at hand and wormhole signatures that lead to nowhere. Precious minutes when they can be doing something to fix this, minutes when Keith might be suffering or dying.

  Or dead already.

  Across the table, Allura watches him grimly and in her eyes, he sees the hot-head he’s become, part of the job description for being Red Paladin. Surely Alfor was too.

  “We’re all worried about him, Lance,” Hunk says. “But we’ll get him back. They mess with one of us, they get all of us.”

  The determination and conviction in his best friend’s voice eases the tightness in his chest by a small knot. The chorus of agreements around the table eases a little more even if they’re all obviously trying to be more motivated than they really are. Morale hasn’t been high to begin with since the battle at Oriande but this latest blow and the loss of Keith is taking a toll on everyone and Lance has to remember that. They _all_ lost Keith.

  “Right,” he says. “So we need a few quintents to get ourselves ready again. Pidge, Hunk, Allura and I will try to speed up the recharge but we need a plan to get Keith back once that’s done.”

  Shiro looks at him and is quiet for a brief moment like he’s seeing something surprising before he nods. “Lance is right. Curtis, have you located the latest wormhole signature?

  “Yes, Captain, but there’s no telling if she’s still there. I’m trying to see if I can trace Black’s energy signatures again but he appears to be completely offline.”

  “Keep working on it,” Shiro says, not acknowledging the possible implication of what that means. How Shiro’s able to pretend he’s keeping his shit together under those eye bags, Lance will never know. “Sam, how are those modifications to our ion cannons coming along?”

  Sam says something about upgrades that reduce energy loss and gap time for more efficient and powerful blasts with greater range but Lance loses track for a moment when he sees Krolia in the corner of her eyes. She sits next to Kolivan and Kosmo on her other side, the wolf looking just as lost as Lance feels. Though Krolia sits straight as ever, Lance has a feeling it’s the warrior training in her that won’t allow her attention to deviate from the meeting.

  But Lance can’t stop seeing her pulling her son into tight embraces and kisses, rare manifestations of affection she doesn’t show often in front of others. This is a woman who’s lost her love and now her son is gone.

  _I’m sorry_ , he wants to say. _I promise I’ll find him._

  What he ends up saying is, “Lahn’s fleet.” This makes the table turn to him. “Our arsenal is low on power and we don’t have time to sit and wait around. We can recruit Lahn’s fleet and other Galra that have joined the Coalition and finish Honerva off for good _and_ get Keith back.”

  He’s met with quiet, articulating stares.

  “You mean, take the battle to Honerva with only four functioning lions?” Pidge asks sceptically.

  “And the Atlas, the MFEs and some Galra factions. Plus we have weapon upgrades, right?” Sam blinks owlishly and looks at Shiro before he nods, slow and reluctant. “Okay. The robeasts don’t look like they even worked properly and the high-tailed right out of here the moment things started to go out of control for them.”

  “Did they?” Veronica asks, drawing the room’s attention. “Lance, you didn’t see it. When the Atlas started to transform and your lions were flying from the two robeasts, it looked like Honerva meant to go for the Black lion. They could easily have kept coming for us.”

  “Does anyone else have a better idea right now?” he challenges.

  No one rises to it. Veronica gives an all-too-familiar look she makes when one of her siblings sparks an idea she doesn’t agree with before ultimately joining anyway.

  Still, Lance softens his tone, reigning himself back in as he looks at everyone around the table and some standing to the side of the room. “Look, I know this situation isn’t ideal but if we don’t do something soon, we might never be able to do it. We can’t keep buying time. This could be our only chance to strike.”

  “I agree,” Allura says. She meets his eyes, clear and determined. “The longer we wait, the stronger Honerva becomes. She has Keith and the Black lion and there is no telling what she will do with them.”

  “Hostage,” Pidge pipes. “Or bait. She’ll use Keith to draw us in or make us hand over the lions.”

  Pidge has never been one for much tact and sensitivity and usually Lance appreciates the honesty even if he doesn’t show it. But her voicing of the thought that runs through everyone’s minds leaves the room silent and Lance’s chest gaping.

  To his utter surprise, it’s Krolia who says, “Keith wouldn’t want us to trade the lions for his life.”

  _Holy hell_. This entire meeting has been an absolute shitstorm and Lance is starting to lose it. Krolia is right but it doesn’t mean it’s any less difficult to hear.

  Shiro diffuses the freezing cold tension with a soft exhale. “All of you are right. We’ll send for Lahn’s and any other support we can get. In the meantime, we’ll send out scouting missions to search for Keith and then plan our attack. Paladins, do what you must to get the lions up and running. Has anyone seen Slav?”

  “He’s down in the engine room,” Sam answers, somewhat irritated. “He’s taken over every surface trying to find ways to reverse the time fractures with our available resources.”

  “Tell him to report back immediately for any development.”

  Allura offers, “I’ll see if the old paladins know of a way too.”

  “Good idea. Look alive, team. We’re going to end this once and for all.”

~

  Everything seems to fall into place aboard the Atlas afterwards. Everyone else has their assigned tasks and even Jaro has been called up to help Curtis, though Zethrid remains in the cell. Veronica and the other engineers are in charge of making repairs to the Atlas – there aren’t much since the Atlas didn’t really fight; the only problem is the power source and radiators and thingamabob. Some of the Blades leave for Lahn’s base and a group of rebel fighters scope out the area of Honerva’s latest wormhole exit but she’s long gone.

  Lance is assembled in a training room with Pidge, Hunk and Allura, sitting cross-legged on the floor like they did so long ago when the excitement of a heroic space adventure still overshadowed the reality of everything they’d face. Now, the pentagon is missing a vertex.

  “What do we do, Pidge?” Allura asks, wringing her hands together. She seems to have become more alive, more determined since she’s talked with her father, the spark in her eyes becoming brighter. Lance hasn’t had a chance to talk to her at all but she seems...happier. He supposes it’s a beautiful silver lining in this damned mess of time and space.

  Pidge explains, “Trigel described it as a lesson in bonding with everything that makes Voltron, the lions, paladins and even the quintessence. It’s like that time when Lance was able to wake Red and call her all the way over from Saturn in like three seconds.”

  When he and Veronica almost died.

  “So the bonding fills up their quintessence again?” Hunk asks.

  “Well, we’re actually letting the lions use our quintessence.”

  Hunk and Allura’s eyes fly wide in shock.

  “Okay,” Lance says a bit impatiently. “How do we start? We don’t have those headband thingies to connect our minds anymore.”

  “You are not meant to need them,” Allura says. “When I gave you the neurotransmitters, it was only to give you a starting point. As paladins of Voltron, we should be capable of connecting to each other without their help, though I cannot imagine how much deeper our bonds can reach.”

  Pidge purses her lips. “According to Trigel, the old paladins can jump right into the astral plane of their lions and of Voltron without being even in the lions. But they had years and years to get to that point.”

  “Well,” Hunk sighs. “We better get started.”

  Exactly what Lance is thinking.

  That’s all they need to close their eyes. Lance gives in everything he has to reaching out for Red and readily meets the strands of her warmth halfway.

  _Come on, girl. Guide me through._

  Lance feels hesitation for a brief second before a snare grips his mind and yanks him forward until he sees through Red. There’s the hanger floor, the massive doors, Green beside her and Kosmo, sitting at attention, lazily whipping his tail back and forth as he...waits. Kosmo waits for his master.

  Black speckles across his fuzzy vision and Red growls as if to say, _Focus!_

  Lance obeys, diving right back in as the view clears. _Show me more_.

  Nothing changes. He’s still seeing through Red. He digs further, wrapping his mind tightly around the tendrils of Red’s. Still there is nothing new, nothing he hasn’t done before. _Please_.

  _Patience._

  Patience? She’d dealt with Keith who was more impulsive, more reckless and more hot-headed than anyone in the universe and she’s telling _Lance_ to be patient?

  _Yes._

  All right. He can be patient. It’s not like Keith is in danger or anything. Red growls at his tone of voice and she makes sure to let him know she doesn’t appreciate it with a particularly hard yank on his mind that makes him dizzy. After that Lance tries to not be so sarcastic.

  He sits and sits and sits and sits and sits and sits there, watching through Red. People pass in and out of the hanger, Kosmo takes a nap, the mice come to play with his fur, later joined by Bae Bae and yet Lance doesn’t seem to get any deeper into Red’s mind. He takes to pressing against the edges of it, testing for cracks or seals that he can peer through, _feel_ through for any sign of what’s supposed to be more ‘bonded’ than this level but Red pushes back firmly, not giving in one little bit.

  His legs are numb and his back aches and he feels like Death has used his scythe on his neck when he opens his eyes, growling under his breath.

  He can’t do it.

  “Red won’t budge,” he hisses.

  “Green neither,” Pidge says, opening her eyes and slouching even further.

  Hunk yawns, stretching his arms into the air. “I think I fell asleep for a bit there.”

  Allura makes a face. “Hunk, you’ve been snoring for the past varga.”

  Hunk blushes and chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oops.”

  Lance claps his hands. “Let’s go again.”

  “I need a break,” Pidge says, throwing herself back to stretch out across the floor like a starfish. “I know I sleep like half an hour a day but we’ve just come out of a really draining battle and I need to recharge before I can think about recharging anything else.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, me too,” Hunk says. “I kind of need a nap really badly. Well, another longer nap.”

  _A nap?_ “What are you talking about? Honerva isn’t taking a break!”

  “Lance,” Allura starts gently, placing a hand on his arm. Suddenly he feels how tense he is. “Believe me, we all want Keith back as soon as possible. We know he’s in danger and we all care very much. But when I become too focused on defeating Honerva or saving my people, you tell me take a step back, remember?”

  He does but it feels so long ago even though it’s only been days. He doesn’t need to answer her.

  Allura continues, “This is me telling you to take a step back. Rest and we can start fresh, start better.”

  Lance looks to Pidge and Hunk and they obviously look like they agree, watching him with lips in tight lines and eyebrows meeting at the middle in concern. Lance knows an argument he can’t win.

  So he sighs, “Right, sorry. We’ll try again later.” He scrambles up onto his legs, so numb he can’t feel a thing. He can barely stand straight and it is ridiculously mortifying when he marches out of the room on jelly muscles that start to scream with pins and needles.

  He doesn’t care where he’s going. He just knows he needs time to himself and he can’t do that in Red anymore.

  He walks anyway.

~

  One thing keeps repeating in her mind as Allura watches Lance all but stumble out wordlessly; _oh._

  _Oh._

_Oh._

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lance like that before,” Pidge comments, rising to her elbows to stare after Lance who has long disappeared. “Have you, Hunk?”

  “Once,” Hunk answers quietly. “Back at the Garrison when Keith dropped out.”

  _Oh._

  Allura knows then that this is the start of simplification.

~

  Lance ends up somewhere he’s only been once when he was being shown around on his first day aboard the Atlas; the observatory. On the Castle of Lions, he would find himself on the deck every other night, hugging his knees to his chest as he sits in the dark. He watched the stars fly by light-years and light-years from home, no idea which direction it even is. When he was particularly sentimental, he opened up the holographic starmap and tried to find the Solar System. That usually made it worse.

  Now he watches again the speckles of little lights through a glass dome that serves as the roof, giving a near hemispherical view of the universe, dark and still and vast. He’s pushed the others too hard, too much, too soon, thought it would smother the urgency within him but it’s only amplified his frustration. It’s not their fault, he has to remind himself. Everybody needs a rest after a battle like that, taking a blast so strong they’re out for a solid few minutes.

  That reminds him that he should try to talk to King Alfor properly but that’s not a task he’s capable of performing right now. No doubt there’s a line of people waiting to talk to the former paladins and Lance is a bit too happy to let them have their go first. There’s only a twinge of guilt for avoiding them when he probably should be one of the first.

  Beside him, Kosmo makes occasional whimpering noises that he’s been giving since he joined Lance, nose pressing against the photo Lance has up on his screen – the one Keith took after Lance braided his hair – and just like that the guilt becomes second priority.

  “Keith let you touch his hair?” someone asks behind him.

  Lance whips his head around to find Hunk shuffling closer to plop down on the other side of Kosmo, ruffling the wolf’s fur. He’s dressed in a Garrison issued shirt with his signature waistcoat over it, hair still damp from a shower.

  Lance hums in answer.

  “It looks like he took the picture.”

  “He did.”

  Hunk is quiet for a moment. Then he simply says, “Wow.”

  There is something hidden behind that single syllable that Lance is too tired to decipher. Kosmo whimpers, rubbing the side of his face on Hunk’s knee in a strangely feline manner.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Hunk coos, paying Kosmo more attention. “We’re gonna get Keith back.”

  “What if we don’t?” Lance lets slip.

  Hunk looks up like Lance has just shot Kosmo in the head. “Don’t say that. We got Allura back before, didn’t we?”

  Lance keeps staring at him dead in the eyes for a moment, a million retorts bubbling in his mouth and none of them useful. So he ends up sighing, resting his chin on his knees. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

  He feels Hunk’s eyes watching him carefully before he even speaks. “You and Keith have become pretty close, hey?”

  “Don’t worry, Hunk. You’re still my best friend.” It’s a pathetic attempt at humour and goes past both of them. So Lance answers, “Yeah. He’s not as bad as I thought.” And that’s downplaying it greatly. Keith is unexpectedly a better friend than Lance would ever have pegged him for.

  Hunk chuckles a tiny bit. “Man, I remember when you guys were always up in each other’s faces. It feels like only yesterday when you tried to beat him in the simulator and he wrecks it for everyone else.”

  Lance has to smile at that. The good old days when all he had to worry about was ranking top in class and keeping his skin glowing. None of this intergalactic warfare shit where you don’t walk off after bad crashes.

  “And you always threw up,” Lance adds.

  Now Hunk laughs heartily. “And Pidge would ditch us the moment class ends.” He pauses, looking all the way outside at the emptiness. “And look where we are now, fighting evil, kicking ass, saving the universe.”

  “It’s not over yet.”

  “It’s not. We’ve lost Allura before and we got her back. We’re going to get Keith back too, if he isn’t already racing back here.”

  Somehow it’s far more convincing when Hunk says it and Lance believes it a little more than he believed his own assurances.

  “Thanks, man,” he tells him.

  “What do you say we take a nap and then we start again?”

  Lance blinks.

  “Come on,” Hunk presses. “We haven’t spent time together in ages. Plus, Sal still won’t let me into the kitchen.”

  Lance looks around and then at Kosmo who stares back. By some unspoken agreement, both decide that there’s nothing better to do while taking a much-needed break and Kosmo curls himself around Lance. He, Hunk and Kosmo pile up in a heap of men and giant fur ball.

  Lance finds that exhaustion pulls him under easier than he expected.

 

  Only Kosmo sees Krolia come in and wrap a blanket around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can feel the quality deteriorating as the story progresses... For that, I really do apologise. Uni has been up my "S5 dermatome," as my professor says. It's a miserable existence.


	7. The Red Paladins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The teams tries to access the astral plane again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I regret? Having chapter titles.
> 
> What I don't regret? How self-indulgent this chapter is.

  “Is everyone ready?” Lance asks three hours later, covered in fur.

  They’ve gathered in a circle in the training room once again. Pidge, looking both refreshed and even more tired at once, bobs her head. Lance doesn’t even want to ask what she did to ‘recharge’. Hunk is also covered in fur but he definitely looks better and even Lance has to admit he feels a little better, more grounded too, which he appreciates. Allura, however...doesn’t meet his eyes as she smiles tightly and nods.

  “Is everything okay?” Lance asks tentatively.

  “Yes, of course!” she says. “I’ve spent more time with Coran and my father in Red. I-I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Uh, no! No, it’s fine, Allura. You’re always welcomed in Red.” He wipes his hands on his legs, suddenly sweating buckets. “Let’s, um- let’s start.”

  Lance pushes away the awkwardness out of his mind and closes his eyes, reaching for Red once more.

  She rumbles in his mind. _You’re back._

  In response Lance slowly latches onto the feel of her, testing the waters this time. She lets him in begrudgingly, letting him see through her again but going no further. So Lance remains patient, not pushing, not pleading, just staying very still. The ball is in Red’s court and she will do with it as she pleases.

  After a dreadfully painful hour of nothing, it becomes apparent that Red doesn’t want a ball.

  _Red, please_ , he begins. _I’m trying to help Keith. You know him. You cared about him enough to always come to his rescue. Please do it again. Just this once._

  A sense of familiarity washes over him as Red recalls memories of her previous paladin but he feels nothing else, sees nothing else.

  _Do you not care about him anymore?_

  _You care._

  Of course Lance cares.

  _You save._

  Well, he’s fucking trying to.

  Red as good as smacks him upside the head for that attitude and then goes silent. She doesn’t kick him out, which is a relief. But no string of apologies Lance pours out brings her back. Which is fair.

  More time ticks by, the hanger and the training room deadly silent. The other lions don’t move but Lance wonders if Hunk or Pidge or Allura has already bonded, if they’ve gotten past their lions’ walls.

  If he’s the last one.

  Again.

  He always seems to be last. He used to think Red is just dramatic and likes swooping in at the last minute but with every second that ticks by now he think maybe... It’s him.

  Maybe it’s always him, never quite enough.

  Not enough for fighter class at the Garrison until someone dropped out.

  Not enough to fly Black

  Not even enough to be Voltron’s proper right hand.

  But he tries so hard. All those hours and hours of training and studying he put into his exams. Trying time and time again to prove himself, prove he has what it takes to be a good paladin, to be _good enough_ but never has been.

  _Then why do you keep trying?_ Red asks.

  Because if he doesn’t, he’ll never be anything.

  _So what are you now?_

  It’s Keith’s voice that answers, _Paladin of the Red Lion._

  Red is quiet for a moment. _Are you?_ she asks.

  Lance thinks about it; the way Red roared for him to come to her all those months ago, the way she came for him when he needed her, the way they’d taken down countless enemies, standing tall together afterwards. Blue is a nurturer, warm and comforting. Red is stoic and temperamental yet encouraging in different ways and Lance has _thrived_ under her care, hasn’t he? She’s pushed him out of his comfort zone, made him become more.

  Maybe Lance might never truly be the leader Keith sees in him or a proper-right hand but he _is_ Red’s paladin and he’ll there for anyone who needs him. Now, it’s Keith.

  He answers without hesitation, _I am._

  Suddenly the gates in his mind flood open, filling him up so brightly a gasp escapes him. Red’s contented purr caresses him, soft and light, as blinding white slowly gives way to a spectrum of red. Then Lance is standing in a familiar open field of crimsons and maroons, speckles glittering in the sky enveloping in every direction until the horizon is nothing but a dark line.

  He’s here.

  He’s made it.

  “There you are.”

  Lance spins on his heels to find Alfor standing behind him, looking one with the astral plane itself – half-transparent, shimmering with quintessence. Lance should’ve expected to find the king here, even if he’s not at all prepared. This is his girlfriend’s father and probably the greatest paladin Red has ever had. Lance has been hoping to put off his inevitable talk with Alfor for as long as he possibly could. Looks like there’s no escaping now.

  “Your highness,” he says and bows awkwardly.

  “Just Alfor,” the king replies. “Or ‘father’,” he adds as an afterthought. “Whichever you prefer.”

  Oh, _fuck_. Was that a joke? Did the king of Altea just make a joke? “I’ll, um, stick to your highness,” Lance says and hopes it isn’t offensive.

  Alfor simply stares at him. “If you wish.”

  He looks around at the expense that stretches for miles and miles. Wind whistles through the place but Lance doesn’t feel it on him, just hear the low hum and see the roiling clouds overhead.

  “I commend you for making it here first,” Alfor says. “It is no easy feat, one that took even Trigel many years to unlock and master and the rest of us even longer.”

  Lance spins on the king, only hearing one thing. “I’m first?”

  “Are you surprised?”

  Lance mumbles honestly, “I kind of thought I’d be the last one here.”

  Alfor must see something on Lance’s face because his expression softens as he takes a step closer. Lance wills himself not to retreat. 

  “Allura is right,” King Alfor says, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder, which he stares intently at. “You don’t give yourself the credit you deserve.”

  He can’t hear Red the way he can outside. Now her agreement is more of a feeling wrapping around him from every angle like this place _is_ Red. If not for the utter bafflement of being first, he might’ve blushed.

  As it is now, he mutters, “I thought Red didn’t want me here.”

  Alfor chuckles as if anything about this is funny. “My boy, if she did not want you, you would not be able to pilot her. It took a while for her to warm up to me.” Then he adds as an afterthought, “Gyrgan did always taunt me about it.”

  Lance frowns. “She didn’t want you? But you’re-” He stops before he can embarrass himself but Alfor prompts him to continue with a sagely dip of his chin and a light smile. “A king,” Lance mumbles.

  “A king does not always make a good paladin or a good leader. With time, I had to prove myself worthy of the position, of the responsibility just as you did, just as Keith did. Red only accepts the best of the best.” He says it somewhat smugly with a wink that makes Lance feels all sort of uncomfortable.

  This is _not_ how he expected the king of Altea to be. Lance is still stuck on the wink and _the best of the best_. “I don’t get it. Red didn’t let me in before.”

  “Red did not let you in now either,” Alfor says, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “ _You_ let her in. It is at our weakest that we are also strongest for we hold the potential to change our paths forever. Had you chosen to shut out the darkest parts of you, you would not be standing here. Trust is a two-way stream and you proved the flow between you and Red. That is how she will gain access to your quintessence.”

  “So it was a test.”

  “Every choice you make is a testament of who you are.”

  “A paladin,” he whispers under his breath half in pride but the place suddenly seems to echo.

  “Red’s paladin,” Alfor corrects, looking at Lance like a father that he is. That’s the same face his dad made when Lance was accepted into the Garrison.

  “My boy,” the king continues softly, “I have watched all of you since the moment you found Blue on your planet. You have grown into selfless defenders of the universe from mere children, even the former black paladin. Everyone seems to have found their place...except you.”

  Now Lance feels his face truly heat up so he rubs the back of his neck on instinct, mumbling, “But you said I’m Red’s paladin.”

    “You are, but until a moment ago you did not truly believe it. You were still ready to give up your lion to Keith.”

  Lance opens his mouth to deny but the words don’t come. _It’s just precaution_ , he wants to say. _In case something happens to him and Keith has to take Red and Shiro Black._ But that’s not what this is and he knows it.

  Lance sighs. “Keith leaves pretty big footprints to fill.”

  “Keith was a fine red paladin, yes,” Alfor agrees. “But not so much a fine right-hand, volatile and afraid.”

  Lance blinks. “What?”

  Alfor keeps going as if Lance hasn’t said anything. “Though you both may be great red paladins, you leave behind prints that Keith could not. And that is the support you give him, the black paladin. You’ve kept him in check and are always ready to not only help him but also the team. Perhaps he simply never voiced how much it meant to him.”

  _The Lance that’s always got my back..._

_...and the Lance who knows exactly who he is and what he’s got to offer._

  Oh. Oh, he’s voiced it all right.

  Lance’s chest is tight, a lump jammed in his throat. “I’m actually good at this,” he chokes.

  He thinks back to months ago when Keith chased Lotor right into the dodgiest planet in the universe and how he pulled Keith out of his battle rage and kept the team together. He’d been that slightly bony pillar Pidge needed to doze off on during her frantic search for her brother and father. When Hunk got so homesick he started to skip meals, Lance had taken food to his best friend’s door to bond over all the Earth things they missed.

  He was there for Allura when Lotor broke her heart and made her question all the choices she made. He’d lent an ear to listen to Coran’s tales of old Altea and his family. He’d dropped terrible puns, memes and cheesy jokes around Shiro when things get stressful because he _knows_ the dad-figure of the team appreciates them more than he leads on.

  Lance may not be a genius tech-whiz, a super-strong warrior princess or even a ninja with mad fighting skills but he has helped keep this team together when they frayed at the edges. When they’d taken one too many blows.

  That’s what he is.

  Red paladin, and right-hand.

  (And the only paladin with _three_ bayard forms, but he doesn’t want to brag.)

  “Now you understand,” Alfor says.

  Lance finds himself smiling along, unable to help.

  Then something cold slithers through his veins from chest to fingertips like he’s dripping blood from them. He looks at his hands and finds them perfectly intact.

  “ _That_ would be your quintessence,” Alfor explains. “The more you open yourself up to your lion, the stronger the bond becomes.”

  “I bet the old Keith would’ve sucked at this.”

  Alfor humours him with a chuckle. “You’d be surprised how much he shared with Red, actually. Some things I’d prefer if he kept to himself.” He mutters the last part under his breath.

  _Hey, Red_ , Lance thinks. _Wanna replay some of those back to me?_

  Red responds with something that feels like the equivalent of another smack in the head.

  Okay, he had that coming.

  Alfor looks off to the side as if he sees something Lance cannot and smiles. “Your friends have made it now. Your journey is not over yet. Together, you can reach Voltron’s astral plane itself.”

  “But Keith... We need him here.”

  Alfor’s face falls, which doesn’t do much to reassure Lance. But he quickly pulls a sympathetic smile on his face. “We do. But a bond between lions and paladins can always be stronger even without Voltron. Do what you can, Lance.”

  Alfor apparently says his name like a rich person the way his daughter does too. And okay, Lance will learn to deal with that at a later time. For now, he nods. He’s done this right and he’s made it here.

  He can go further. He can do more.

  “Will you teach me?”

*

  Eventually, Lance starts to feel the others’ presence in the astral plane even though he can’t see them the way he could before, when Shiro tried to call out to him. Keith’s absence is somehow far more noticeable here and to make himself keep going is a phenomenal effort but he manages. By the time they leave the astral plane, it’s halfway through their sleep cycle and the exhaustion drags Lance’s bones to the ground.

  “Great job, everyone,” he huffs.

  Pidge has already given into the temptation to curl up on the floor. Then she stretches like a cat, tiny arms and legs sticking out, groaning. “I think I might actually fall asleep now.”

  Hunk follows Pidge’s earlier example and spreads his limbs out like a starfish, his feet landing in Lance’s lap. “Man, how many more hours do we need to do that for?”

  Allura’s thrown her arm above her head, arching her back with audible cracks. “At this rate, possibly four or five times because the lions cannot draw all of our quintessence.”

  “We should all get some rest,” Lance suggests. Then he changes his words, “ _More_ rest.” It feels like that’s all he’s been doing but there’s also no way he can keep going without draining himself entirely. And that’s a decidedly worse option. “Let’s go sleep.”

  At this precise moment, an adorable little snore escapes from Pidge who’s curled into a ball, fast asleep.

  “Is she...” Allura whispers, leaning over to peer at Pidge. “She is.”

  “About time,” Hunk says under his breath. “She’s been obsessing over Lotor’s tablets and hasn’t slept in days.”

  Allura flinches at the name but recovers quickly. “Did she find anything?”

  “There were just a lot of designs of his inter-dimensional gate over the rift. Most of them-” _SNORE_ “-failed.” He looks at Pidge. “I’d better take her to bed.”

  With that, Hunk scoops her up into his arms and patters out of the room with a final ‘goodnight’, leaving Lance with Allura. Alone. For the first time since the encounter at the cells when she was leaving Lotor’s.

_Talk to her._

  Oh sure, Keith. Like it’s that easy. Where is he supposed to begin? _Oh, just out of curiosity, what were you talking to Lotor about? It’s not that I’m jealous. Or worried, you know. Just...curious._

  “You were brilliant today, Lance,” Allura says, snapping him out of his internal monologue. She’s looking at him with a small smile playing at her lips but not really reaching her eyes.

  Lance takes the safe road and accepts the compliment. “Um. Thanks, Allura. Your father helped me a lot. And Keith too, I guess.”

  Her smile falters as she cocks her head. “Keith?”

  There’s something about the way she looks at him that makes the tips of his ears burn. “Just something he said before we left Earth. I think Red was just probably replaying it back to me.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course. Blue helped me too. Perhaps we should retire for the time being.” She says it all in a jumbled mess in a very Lance-like fashion when he’s trying to act casual.

  “Um,” he says dumbly, watching Allura stand and dust imaginary dust off of herself. He doesn’t have time to offer to walk her back before she’s casting a chaste smile back and strutting out of the room.

  A part of Lance feels the weird tension between them that doesn’t originate from the encounter at the cells. It nags at him but his mind stubbornly refuses to fully acknowledge it just yet, deems it a problem for another day when Keith is safely back and Honerva is defeated.

  So he gets up and shuffles towards Veronica’s room to go bother her instead.

~

  Progress is slow but sure. Between each bonding sessions, Lance finds himself draped on nearest surfaces. At one point, the four of them form a dog-pile right in the middle of the training room and wake up with Pidge on top of the other three and Allura on Lance’s arm. They’re all groggy and Pidge mumbles something about closed time-like curves and because Hunk can’t push her off (he just doesn’t want to push her off) they all fall right back to sleep.

    Next time Lance wakes up, there’s a blanket over them and he chalks it up to Shiro being a dad as usual.

  There’s not much time for updates and meetings. Veronica fills him in on other progresses like the Atlas being near ready and a few Galra factions that responded to actively join the fight. But nothing on Keith or Black or Honerva. Not a single beep.

  After two quintents, the state of the lions has significantly improved, allowing a longer window for a break and a shower.

  Lance shuffles through the corridor, heading for crew quarters when someone yells, “Katherine Holt!”

  Not a second later, Pidge hurries around the corner with a box of spare parts and devices, escaping a hand that grabs at her. Then Colleen appears, positively furious.

  “I’m not a six-year-old,” Pidge grumbles, going as fast as her tiny legs will. “You can’t put me to bed.”

  Lance worries that this is another time leakage but the bags under Pidge’s eyes are darker than usual so he decides that it’s not. Not to mention Pidge giving him side-eyes like he might start agreeing with her mother who’s hot on her heels.

  “Honey, I get that he’s your friend,” Colleen tries again. “But you need to be healthy to help him.”

  Pidge stops dead in her tracks and turns around so fast it scares Lance. The face she makes is even worse. “Keith is more than a friend. He’s family. He pulled every string he could in the Blade of Marmora to help me find Dad and Matt and now I’m going to help find him. You agree me, _right, Lance?_ ”

  “What?”

  Colleen looks as dumbfounded as Lance feels. Pidge is almost glaring at him to agree but Colleen’s slack-jawed expression resonates more with him at this very second.

  Did Keith keep connection with Pidge when he was with the Blades?

  Did he with anyone else?

  Pidge rolls her eyes when he fails to give a satisfactory answer. Then she spins on her heels and she’s off again, huffing down the corridor as people move out of her way. Colleen stands where she is, watching her daughter’s back in concern.

  “Colleen, are you okay?” Lance tries.

  Shaking her head, she mutters, “I miss the little girl who used to fall sleep listening to Sam’s lectures. Get some rest, Lance. At least one of you has to.”

  Lance never gets the chance to ask Pidge any of his questions.

~

  Four quintents go by.

  The lions have been sufficiently recharged – not a hundred percent but Hunk deems them good enough so they must be. Two Galra cruisers have joined the Atlas, ready to take on Honerva. The only problem now is the location of Keith and the Black lion.

  And the upside down person Lance dodges. He swears the man glances at him as he shuffles past quietly, both of them just as terrified. Lance hasn’t had much time to notice but the time leakage is getting worse and Slav has run out of purple crayons. Jaro and Curtis haven’t had any luck either, not even with Pidge helping them every chance she gets.

  Lance is making his way to the bridge when he passes by a room that usually stays closed for good reason. A pink-clad figure inside makes him pause. She stands in front of the glass case in the middle of the room, staring intensely at the monstrosity inside, lazily bobbing around as if it is not the single greatest threat on this ship.

  “Allura?” She almost jumps out of her skin as she whips around to face him inching into the room. “What are you doing?”

  Allura swallows. “I’m observing the creature’s behaviour. I thought perhaps I should learn more so that I can help the Alteans but I have not gained much knowledge. It’s been dormant every time I visit.”

  Lance dares to take her hand for the first time in days and she lets him. “You have to be careful, Allura. None of us know what it could do.”

  Something passes over her face again and her hand twitches in his. She looks straight at him, eyebrows knotted and teeth worrying at her lips. “I... I have been talking to Lotor.”

  Lance’s heart actually stops beating for a full two seconds. Unsure what else to say, he figures he might as well settle for the truth. It seems to be the road they are both heading down. “I know, Allura.”

  “No,” she says. “I visited again. I wanted to ask him about the entity. In my father’s time, the paladins expelled the threat immediately. I wanted to know if Lotor ever had the chance to study them.”

  “Oh.” His hand is so sweaty all of a sudden. “Did he?”

  “No but...” She looks at the creature.

  “But?”

  “I can use it to find Honerva, to find Keith.”

  His grip tightens on her hand. “Allura, no. That’s- That’s crazy!”

  “Lance, we are running out of time.”

  “It could kill you, Allura. King Alfor would never agree to this.”

  “No, my father will not but it’s like you said, Lance. Every moment we waste brings us closer to all our demise. It has been quintents and who knows how much we’ve left. I am but a small sacrifice in a war that has claimed millions of civilisations!”

  “You are not to me! Not to your father or Coran or any of us.”

  “Then will you risk Keith’s life as well?”

  “He might already be dead!”

  And the word echoes, hanging in the silence that follows, dangling over their heads.

  Sure Lance has thought about it for brief moments before he reprimanded himself but no one’s said it aloud, and certainly not in the way that has come out of Lance’s mouth, broken and cracked. It feels about the same as shoving a spear into his chest.

  “He might already be dead,” he whispers. “I don’t- I don’t want to lose you too, Allura.”

  It’s not until she steps closer that he realises how far apart they really were, even with their entwined hands.

  She places a warm hand on his cheek and he almost expects there to be tears. There’s not, to his surprise. “You won’t, Lance. I-”

  She never gets to finish as Shiro’s voice comes over the comms, “Paladins to the meeting room. We’ve found the Black lion.”

 

 

  Merla looks up from the screen in her hands. “The signal has been sent, Empress Honerva.”

  The woman in the crown does not avert her gaze from the ancient scrolls spread across the table. “Good.”

  Merla glances to the side of the room, at the man who stands straight as a pillar with eyes as dead as the Empress’. Then she sends a second transmission, much quieter. Hardly noticeable.

  The lights of the paladin’s armour flashes once.


	8. Fire on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the team wages battle in the sky to rescue the Black lion, Lance must find Black's paladin before time runs out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. This is the most self-indulgent chapter yet, guys. You've been warned.
> 
> (Also, I'm sorry for the month-long wait.)

  The fiery planet hangs in Red’s window, encircled by half a dozen moons. Seas and streams of lava snake off along the planet’s surface in webs of luminescent blood, waiting to ensnare poor unfortunate travellers. How fitting, Lance thinks, that they would find Keith here. Maybe.

  The Atlas, transformed and flanked by the two Galra cruisers and four MFEs, drift after the four lions towards the planet’s surface. There’s no doubt that this entire thing is a trap and elaborate plan to get the rest of the lions. They’re falling right into it with no other choice but to play Honerva’s game if they want any chance of getting back Black.

  Lance hopes to find him intact and having escaped the witch’s clutches but that’s like a drowning man praying for shore. Useless.

  “Everyone, stay alert,” Shiro says over the comms.

  Krolia had sought Lance out in the hanger after that meeting and no one was more shocked than him when she placed a soft hand on his cheek, whispering, “Bring him home.” That’s all she said before she patted his shoulder and walked out, leaving Kosmo with him. Lance was so caught up in the surreal moment that he jumped when Hunk nudged his other shoulder. If anyone wanted Keith back more than him, it’s Krolia. The fact that she trusts him to bring back her son...

  “I’m picking up Black’s beacon on the surface,” Pidge says, “but there’s no indication that he’s receiving any of our transmissions.”

  “Can you check his condition?” Allura asks but it’s unclear that she isn’t directing the question at them until Blaytz answers.

  “We’re only bonded to our own lions, Princess.”

  Pidge grunts. “Judging by the steady transmission, I’d say he’s not completely drained but I can’t say if he can fly for long, or at all.”

  “We’ll know soon enough,” Lance says. Kosmo whimpers next to him so Lance says a head on his head in mustered reassurance.

  Red purrs in agreement and even stoic, stubborn Red can’t keep a bit of worry out of her thoughts. King Alfor settles a hand on the back of the seat, sharing a look with Lance. It should be nerve-wrecking having the first Red Paladin watching over him but there are other things that demand more of his focus than a possible backseat driver.

  The planet looms closer and closer until the horizon disappears from view. This time they don’t make the mistake of not checking the entire planet for hidden weaponry like they failed to do at Naxzela, a lesson learnt and almost paid for dearly. But this planet houses nothing, which begs the question; why not?

  The fleet Lahn sent informed them that this planet was once a Galra base but has been abandoned for over two decades. Hidden within an enormous nebula, it seems to offer nothing of use to the universe so the mystery of the base’s purpose sets everyone on edge.

  “Guys,” Hunk says in his signature I-am-worried voice as they start to descend. “Guys, I have eyes on Black and I do not like this.”

  Sure enough, outside what appears to be a smoking city, the Black lion sits inside a bubble of hazy purple shield. Surrounding that is a hoard of Alteans with their hands pressed against it, all utterly still. They’re doing something Black, some kind of alchemical ritual.

  Kosmo perks, head raised to see over the dash.

  “Keith, are you there?” Shiro asks.

  “Come in, Keith,” Lance says, leaning forward as if that will let him see Black any better.

  Silence answers.

  “There are the Alteans,” Hunk says. “But what about the robeasts?”

  No sooner than the words leave Hunk’s lips, a beam of violet tears right through their flanks, scraping too close for comfort and leaving barely enough time for Lance to careen away. 

  Pidge groans, “Did you have to jinx it, Hunk?”

  “Sorry, guys!”

  “There are five of them!” Allura gasps.

  True to her words, five half-finished mechs rise from the surface like angels of death, all sleek and skeletal with murder in their robot eyes. Honerva’s personal robeast is nowhere to be seen. Two head for the Atlas and the cruisers while three beeline to the lions, sickles ready.

   Where the four lions lack in Voltron’s size and force, they’ll make up for in speed and sheer annoyance to distract and clear the way for a cruiser to beam up Black while trying to avoid being captured. Shiro has taken command of the Galran drones pouring out of the cruisers as the Atlas fires from her palm, so Lance takes the MFEs.

  “Kinkade and Rizavi with Allura, Griffin and Leifsdottir with Pidge, and Hunk on me. Let’s give it everything we’ve got!”

  A robeast fires again and Lance fires back just to be a pain in the butt. He knows it’s not going to put a dent in this thing. Hunk slips through the slash of sickles and slams right into its chest, followed by a groan from Hunk and a hiss Alfor.

  “Tough one, he is,” the king comments.

  Yellow barely swerves the quick swat from the robeast. These guys are different, far more coordinated than they’d been before. Either they’ve been practising or these are different pilots.

  “Rizavi, on your left!”

  Lance fires again. In the background of his vision, one of the cruisers tries to make a descent but a robeast peels off from obliterating drones. Lance is on that in a second flat, flying in front of its vision to get the attention but something else catches _his_ attention instead.

  A dot flashes in the corner of one of Red’s screens. In the moment Lance takes to check out the signal, the robeast slams into him, knocking him against the seat and shaking his skull. Kosmo goes flying to the other wide of the cockpit and Alfor would’ve been thrown out the window if he isn’t some sort of sentient spirit-time being tethered to Red herself.

  “Is everyone else,” Pidge shrieks then battle cries as Green shoots at the robeast that just fired at her, “getting this as well?”

  Lance would be if he hadn’t succeeded in actually getting the robeast’ attention. As it is now, he’s flying around the carnage with a psycho robot angel on his tail, trying to open that signal.

  Alfor helps pull a hologram up. Then he pauses. “The red paladin armour is transmitting.”

  Lance veers off course but quickly throws himself back in the right direction for this manoeuvre. “It can do that? Wait, where is it coming from?”

  “The city,” Allura answers.

  Keith isn’t in Black.

  That thought alone is enough to throw him off course again and the clamours of ‘ _Look out!_ ’ and ‘ _6 o’clock!_ ’ and ‘ _Atlas, we need backup!_ ’ and _‘We can’t reach the Black lion,_ ’ are not helping so Lance gives up the manoeuvre he’s spent weeks perfecting and goes straight for a nosedive.

  Kosmo barks once, sidling up to Lance again and steeling himself on all fours.

  A beam flashes on Red’s right, half blinding Lance.

  “It might be a part of Honerva’s plan to separate us,” Alfor says.

  It probably is. “What should we do?”

  Allura answers, “We should still investigate.”

  That seems to be the end of that discussion and Alfor remains quiet so Lance takes it as a sign of agreement. He grunts, gritting his teeth as he changes course but he sees the robeast still on his tail in the scans around him.

  “Guys, can anyone peel off?” he asks.

  The replies he gets are all along the line of, ‘ _No!_ ’ and ‘ _Kind of busy trying to not die,_ ’ accompanied by a cacophony of grunts and shrieks. The robeast’s blast hits Red again, rendering him immobile for a second. Much more of these hits and Red will go on reserves and they’re no closer to Keith.

  Finally Lance screeches to a halt and turns Red to face the robeast, approaching fast. He readies Red’s fire blast and prepares for the sickles but they don’t come. Instead, Hunk drives Yellow right into its head even though another one is chasing him, all but crushing himself between two robeasts. Then Pidge is on them, firing at one robeast to pull attention on her.

  It gives Lance the break he needs.

  “We got you, buddy!” Hunk cries. “Go get him!”

  _Bring him home._

  Lance is out of there. He doesn’t even turn to check if a cruiser has made it past the robeasts’ line of defence. The established priority at the pre-battle meeting was to get Black out of Honerva’s hands at all costs. The unspoken objective on everyone’s minds was to get Keith.

  Kosmo is alert, glowing eyes taking in the maps around him and Lance wouldn’t put it past him to understand.

  The signal takes them towards the smoking city and upon closer inspection Lance sees that the buildings are not actually on fire. Smoke drifts from streams of lava that twists and turns between them, burbling and spurting occasionally. He checks for signs of civilians but everything is deadly still, windows dark, walls charred and glass shattered. The only sound comes from his helmet where the battle rages above.

  The red armour is smack in the heart of the city where buildings almost stack on top of each other.

  “You’ll have to proceed on foot,” King Alfor says.

  Lance is already landing a distance away where he can set down Red’s paws without crushing anything in case civilians still reside. But something tells him this place has been dead for a long time. He shares one last look with Alfor, who nods in encouragement, before Kosmo teleports them out. 

  Immediately the heat hits, warm and suffocating that even the temperature regulation of his suit has to work hard to stabilize. A few feet from him, lava spits onto the cracking sidewalk. Kosmo takes them a safe distance away, under the awning of a building and Lance pulls up the map on his wrist.

  ‘ _I need back- argh - Mayday! Mayday! I’ve lost control.’_

  Lance looks up on instinct in time to see an MFE jet lose a wing and then lose altitude fast, plummeting. Red’s roar shakes the ground as she takes off towards Leifsdottir’s jet. Lance leaves the task up to his lion as Kosmo teleports them again closer to the signal on his hologram. Then again, and again until they land almost right on top of someone.

  But the person doesn’t notice at all. The alien, six-limbed made of crusts and rocks for skin, coos at something invisible next to them as they walk up, up, up to Lance and straight through him. Lance shudders even though he feels nothing.

  Suddenly half a dozen Galra cruisers had appeared in the sky and one of them is beaming up Red, encased in a red bubble.

  “What the f-”

  “That’s from the past,” a voice says.

  Lance spins, bayard ready to activate. Kosmo growls at the Altean woman who stands across a foot-wide stream of lava, half hidden in the darkness of a crumbling house. She peers out before she steps out, short auburn hair almost alight under the orange haze around them. Slowly she puts her hands up.

  “This is where the Galra found the Red lion.”

  “Who are you?” Lance demands, switching his bayard to a blaster.

  “I’m Merla. I’m the one who sent the signal,” she says. “Please, I’m trying to help.”

  “I know where he is. I don’t need your help.”

  “You do. I couldn’t hack your friend’s armour so I had to mimic the signal instead. Do not follow it. I’ll lead you to him but we don’t have much time before the others notice I’m gone.”

  “Why should I trust you?”

  “You have no choice. Follow that signal you’ll find yourself in the same position as your friend.”

  The Altean sees Lance’s falter but Lance doesn’t care. “Is he okay?”

  She purses her lips. “Come with me.”

  Well, that’s a ‘no’.

  The Altean doesn’t wait for a reply; she’s already shuffling along the bank. Lance looks at Kosmo and Kosmo looks back. In this instant, it’s understandable why Keith wanted to wait for the wolf to declare his own name because if Kosmo could speak, he would be barking at him to follow her.

  Kosmo on his heels, Lance trudges after the woman, sticking the hand with a map out over the foot-wide stream of lava. “Show me where. I can get us there faster.”

  The woman zooms in on an area and taps a particularly large building in the opposite direction from the fake signal. “This is where Honerva took him.”

  Lance grips her wrist without warning and a blink later, he’s inside a semi-lit hallway with a high ceiling and narrow path. Merla shrieks, snatching her wrist out of his hand, covering her mouth and catching herself on the wall as she gawks.

  “What did you _do_?” she hisses between forced swallows.

  Lance answers, “Kosmo is a good boy.”

  Kosmo huffs proudly, tail wagging.

  In one direction, an elevator sits at the end of the hall, panels above the doors unlit. In the other direction, the hall stretches to a T-junction, both paths lit poorly and casting grungy shadows. The place looks like it might’ve once been some sort of apartment, if its inhabitants were averse to light and fond of creepy echoes and windowless existence. Footsteps come thudding from one side, shadows shifting.

  Merla herds Lance and Kosmo away, whispering furiously, “I’ll take care of them. Your friend is one floor above. Go, and be careful.”

  He doesn’t have to be told twice before he’s in a different room altogether.

  ‘ _Lance, what’s your status?_ ’ Shiro asks in his helmet.

  “I’m still...” The words fall away as he takes in his surroundings.

  A tilted table in the centre of the room has four shackles attached, lying beneath three machines hanging from the ceiling, thick wires curling like vines and snaking along the ground to reach all the way towards an erect control centre. Dust settles on the surface of the table, except for a suspiciously human-looking bare spot.

  “No,” Lance whispers.

  ‘ _Lance, what’s happening? It’s not looking good out here._ ’

  “Negative, Shiro. Keith is- I haven’t found him but I’m close.”

  Shiro says nothing for a moment and Lance can’t stop staring as Kosmo begins to sniff around the contraptions and then growl, hackles raised.

  ‘ _We’ll try to buy you more time._ ’

  Lance takes a step towards to the controls when Kosmo barks and then Lance goes rolling across the floor. Where he stood a heartbeat ago is Keith’s Marmora blade, stabbed into the floor, cracks slithering along the concrete. Lance follows the glowing sword up to a pommel gripped tight in gloved hands.

  “Keith!”

  Lance is on his feet, adrenaline rushing in his veins and about to throw himself at Keith when Kosmo block his path. Then he sees it; the yellow glow of Keith’s eyes with slits of violet leering from beneath a long dark fringe.

  Keith pulls out the sword, dragging the tip across the floor when he steps closer, unblinking.

  “Keith. Buddy?”

  “I’m not.” One step forward.

  “What?” One step back.

  “I’m not your ‘buddy.’”

  “What are you-”

  Keith springs, lips bared and sword raised. Lance just manages to summon his own sword before he’s split in two. Still, the sheer force of Keith’s attack and his own dumbstruck shock sends him to the floor again, sliding until his back crashes against a wall. Kosmo is there within a second but Lance doesn’t have enough time to think about his next move before he catches the purple flash of Keith’s bayard and a blast tears down the wall above his head, the heat singing hot on his face.

  The wall behind him gives out from the force of the blast, crumpling away and Lance screams as he falls with the debris, his stomach swooping. Before he splatters on the ground below, Kosmo takes him down, landing harshly on top of the debris, a few steps away from boiling lava.

  Above, Keith stands in the hole left in the building, staring down at them. Kosmo nudges Lance, whimpering and urging him to get on his damned feet and Lance obeys absently.

  That is Keith up there, his friend and teammate and Voltron’s leader and right now he’s more Galra than human and he’s trying to kill Lance. It hits then like a bucket of cold water over his head. Honerva put a creature in Keith. He’s being controlled.

  Without warning Keith leaps off the first floor, slamming into the ground hard enough to crack it. All around them are steaming lava, painting Keith’s face a particular shade of murder as he trudges towards Lance, lips curled back to reveal sharp canines that definitely weren’t there before.

  Lance holds his ground as Keith advances. “Keith.”

  He keeps coming, sword swinging into position.

  “Please,” Lance begs, gripping his own tighter. “It’s me.”

  “I know who you are.”

  Lance holds out a hand towards Kosmo, glancing behind him to see that any further steps would put him on unstable grounds. “I don’t want to fight you.”

  Keith scoffs, a terrifying grin clawing its way onto his face. “You’ve always been a coward.”

  With that, he pounces.

~

  Powerful as she may be, the Atlas is too big and too slow, no more than a snail compared to the robeasts, making it a perfect target for them to sink their sickles into and drain the quintessence. She shudders and groans as one feeds off her again for the fifth time, depleting far more than she can spare for a battle like this. But all the lions have their paws full, one MFE down and still no way for a cruiser to go past the enemy line of defence.

  “Sir, we’re losing too much power,” Curtis says.

  Shiro hasn’t even thought of a reply when Veronica says, “Captain, we have a another problem. The Alteans have escaped their cell.”

  On the screen over her shoulder, Shiro sees that the Alteans have indeed broken down their cell door and are marching their way towards the elevators.

  This is the point Shiro mutters, “Fuck.”

  Acxa, standing next to Veronica’s station, says, “Let Zethrid out. She, Ezor and I will hold them down.”

  “Captain, we can’t shake this one off. What are your orders?” Iverson asks.

  Shiro sends a nod in Veronica’s direction and the engineer gives Acxa’s hand a squeeze before she presses buttons in front of her.

  “Acxa,” Shiro says before she rushes out.

  She pauses.

  “Try not to hurt them.”

~

  The two blades clash with a _shing_ and Lance tries to hold his position but he’s still not prepared for the full strength of Keith’s attack and goes stumbling straight into Kosmo who has the right idea to place Lance further away on the other side of that stream.

  “Keith, Honerva messed with your mind. I’m your friend. All of us up there,” he points to the battle in the sky but doesn’t dare take his eyes off Keith, “are your friends. We’re here to help you. Your mum just wants you back safely. Let me – oh, _shit._ ”

  Keith leaps over the lava with ferocious grace that no one should ever have the right to and he slashes again and again and again, light dancing off the blade. Lance barely meets it blow for blow but faltering with every clash. This, he realises, is Keith at his full force. All those training sessions, he’d been holding back so much.

  Lance finally manages to hold his ground, swords crossed between them but struggling to keep them there. Keith’s grin stretches, much more terrifying up close like this.

  He scoffs, pushing harder. “Do you really think you can win against me? That you’ll _ever_ be like me?”

  One of Lance’s knees gives out but he keeps himself standing, knowing full well that if Keith wanted to he could throw Lance into lava right now. He’s toying with him, baiting, but unlike all those times in training, this stings.

  “Keith, I know you’re in there. Fight back. You’re stronger than this.”

  Too focused on the swords inching closer to his neck, Lance doesn’t see the fist coming until it smashes into visor and hurls him backwards. Kosmo is there to catch him and put more distance between them and Keith, enough for Lance to gain his bearings and realise his vision is now a spider web of broken glass. _Holy shit._

  He chucks it off in time to see Keith lunge for him again and sweep out with his sword, pain flaring on his cheekbone as Kosmo shifts him again, placing a solid few yards between them, understanding that Lance doesn’t fight like Keith. He needs more than a second to get himself in check after each teleport.

  “That’s right, Lance,” Keith taunts. “Run. What could I have expected of you?”

  Lance doesn’t answer but takes the time to catch his breath.

  “You’ve never been good enough and you know it. You should’ve been the one to leave Voltron, not me.”

  Lance stills. Rationally he knows that this person speaking isn’t Keith, knows the real Keith would never say something like this. But he can’t help it when he steels himself, shifts the weight on his feet and narrow his eyes, fingers tightening on his sword.

  This time Lance is the one who lunges.

  Keith is ready for him, grinning widely like he’s already won this as he defends himself with ease. Lance holds nothing back, striking at all strategic points that Keith has taught him. But that’s the problem; Keith knows every move, and it allows him to not only defend but counter, landing punches on Lance’s stomach and face, swords meeting armour.

  Then Lance recruits Kosmo’s help, appearing at random points around Keith to get meagre hits in on stomach and leg but even this is in vain. Kosmo is weakening with each shift, teleports sloppy and slow but he pushes on with all his might to take Lance where he needs.

  But Keith knows Kosmo too. Whatever savage beast is within him starts to aim for the tiring wolf instead of Lance.

  So Lance goes for aerial drop that he’s seen Keith do a couple of times, hoping to take him by surprise. As soon as they appear above him, Keith is already grinning up at them, yellow eyes and all, but it’s too late to stop. He rams a shoulder hard into Kosmo, sending the wolf skidding across the debris-littered ground, just short of falling right into the lava.

  Lance slips his landing and drops into an awkward crouch, ankle twisting painfully. “Kosmo!”

  The distraction is all it takes for Keith to sweep his legs out from beneath him, sprawling him on his ass, and kick his fingers hard enough to make him drop his sword. Then Keith is on him, pinning his arms with his knees, looming above like an angel of death, black hair falling onto his shoulders and around his face, sweat glistening under the luminescent orange light.

  “Keith, _please_!”

  A hand wraps around his neck, choking out his words. Keith’s face has fallen into a furious glare as he raises his sword above Lance’s face, the tip of the blade glinting. Spots blur across his vision as he looks to Kosmo, growling and trying to get back on his paws but weak and unable to.

  He doesn’t have his helmet, doesn’t have a way to call for help.

  He’s not going to make it.

  So Lance chokes out the only words that would matter in his final battle, “You’re my best friend, Keith. I love you.”

  The blade comes down.

~

  “Captain, one of the Alteans has slipped past the line!” Veronica calls.

  Shiro swears again, having momentarily forgotten about the issue on board. Blue has taken a critical hit that leaves her limping through the battle and how Allura still manages to fly like that is both a mystery and an impressive feat that’s giving them that much better odd of making out of this. One of the Galra cruisers is down, literally surviving on backup power and seconds away from crashing to the surface and hundreds of drones are obliterated.

  Now Lance isn’t responding and they have to withdraw.

  He doesn’t want to leave here two people down but if Shiro has to make that decision to save hundreds, then he must.

  Matt is in one of the Galra drones, as are Krolia and Kolivan with the rest of the Blades. That’s anyone who’s ever had any real physical combat with enough skill to even try and hold down a mind-controlled Altean far stronger than any human.

 

  Unless...

  “Sir, she’s heading for the elevator.”

  “Release Lotor. Tell him to stop her.”

  Veronica’s head snaps his way. “But sir... Princess Allura...”

  Shiro knows but there’s little choice. “Do it.”

  He’s not sure how long they can keep this up.

~

  The blade stops an inch above Lance’s face, hanging in the air.

  Beyond that, Keith blinks.

  He blinks again.

  Then he screams, sword clattering right beside Lance’s ear. Keith curls in on himself, hands clawing at his head as he muffles his screams into excruciating groans, toppling off Lance and burying his head in between his knees. 

  “Keith?”

  Lance scrambles to sit up, reaching for Keith’s shaking shoulders but he stops himself. “Keith? You with me?”

  The groans peter off into heaving breaths, hands trembling. Slowly, he looks up from beneath his bangs, the mirror image of an absolute wreck Lance must be too. Except now, the yellow of his eyes have faded to a murky white, eyes round again and glistening violet.

  “You’re back!” Lance hauls Keith into a hug and he can’t help burying his face in Keith’s shoulder, laughing as he soaks in the feel of Keith in his arms.  

  “Lance?” Keith breathes shakily. “You came.”

  Then his immeasurable relief flips to outright offense and he puts Keith at arm length. “Of course I came, you idiot. And now we have to get the hell out.”

  Keith doesn’t seem to get the urgency. His hazy eyes land on Lance’s cheek where – _oh, right_ – warm blood streaks down his face. Kosmo whimpers on his spot to get attention, dragging himself to his haunches.

  “Oh, no,” Keith whispers in horror, trying to push himself up but his arms give out, collapsing again.

  Lance swears, grabbing Keith’s arm on instinct even though it does nothing.

  “I’m...” Keith trails. 

  Lance is all for emotional reunions but he catches sight of the sky. “Okay, dude. You’ve gotta save the apology for later because I think our team is falling back and we have to go before that wormhole closes.”

  Because up there, is a freaking wormhole projecting from the Atlas and no Blue lion to be seen. Red, Green and Yellow are still out and helping a cruiser fight to keep the robeasts from following through.

  Lance calls for Red but she’s not listening, tension and irritation radiating off her and into him in waves as if she’s saying, _A little busy at the moment._

  _Oh, so you want me to fly Black or something?_

  On cue, the black lion is flying overhead, landing on all these crumbling buildings without a care in the universe. If Lance has time to gape he would. But as it is now the Atlas has paused her entry into the wormhole like Shiro has seen Black on the move and they have to _go_.

  Lance gathers the Marmora blade and his own bayard then helps Keith get on his feet but everything that held him up before and kept him fighting seems to have left his body. Now he leans heavily on Lance, almost deadweight and face scrunching with every step that they both limp along into Black’s open mouth. Lance comes back for Kosmo with a speeder, loads his up and returns to Black.

  Keith is still on the ground where Lance left him, leaning against the wall. Kosmo shuffles forward, plopping right down on his owner’s lap as if he isn’t two hundred pounds. Keith buries his hands in Kosmo’s fur, eyes closed.

  “Keith, buddy, you gotta...” _Fly._

  But Lance feels the same way he did when he fell off that building as he watches Keith’s shoulders heave up and down, head thrown back and eyebrows knotted in pain like he’s still fighting that thing inside him.

  Then he thinks, _Fuck it._

  Lance settles into the pilot seat, rests his hand on the joysticks and begs, _Please._

  Black’s reply is a low murmur that caresses his mind, brief and quiet but the message is all the same.

  The lion pounces off into the sky where his comrades await, holding down the fort in one final attempt for his safe return. Black doesn’t fly like Red or Blue. He’s neither fast nor fluid. But he’s steady, pushing on with everything he has to give.

  Over the comms, Lance hears the others cheering and orders to fall back quickly bouncing around. But he listens to Keith’s laboured breaths a few feet away.

  “When we get back to the Atlas,” Keith rasps, “keep me in a cell.”

  Lance flinches but nods, giving himself enough space to swerve the robeast coming at him to make up for the lack in speed.

  “And Lance?”

  He allows a moment to look back, to see Keith smiling weakly.

  “Don’t crash my lion.”

  And despite everything, Lance smirks back. “Shut up and trust me.”

  Lance clears the enemy line, leading his team into the wormhole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If VLD wasn't going to let Lance fly Black then I sure as hell will. I've wanted to write this scene for literal MONTHS and most of you definitely knew it was coming. I know it's probably similar to a ton of others that have written this scene but I really wanted this, okay? 
> 
> The next chapter might be a month-long wait again since I'm going on holiday and I have limited (if any) access to my laptop and internet. I'm sorry, guys, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter at least.


	9. Extraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Left with no other choice, Allura must try to extract the entities from those affected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have rushed to get this chapter out before my month-long hiatus but here you go.
> 
> Warning: description of blood and injuries but nothing too explicit.

  When they step off Black’s ramp with Lance’s arms tucked beneath Keith’s shoulders, Pidge and Hunk come barrelling past medics who have already swarmed around them.

  “Keith!” Pidge cries, throwing her helmet aside, grinning until she sees the two of them properly. “What happened?”

  “Holy crap,” Hunk breathes. “Are you guys okay?”

  Lance can’t answer. His priority is to get Keith on a damned stretcher and under medics’ care while Keith does some sort of breathing exercise with his eyes closed.

  “Cells,” he mumbles. “You have to lock me up.”

  Hunk’s eyes bulge. “What?”

  Lance is already racing off with the medics and the stretcher. He calls back, “There’s a rift creature in him.”

  He sees the horror on his friends’ faces before the hanger doors close.

~

  They strip Keith down to his underwear, gone are his armour and suit. They’ve laid him down on a temporary cot in a cell, hands cuffed to the walls on his request while two medics run tests on him. There are no large, visible physical injuries on his body, only the forming bruises from hits that Lance had landed and now regrets greatly.

  Lance stays and watches, tells himself that someone has to in case Keith loses control again. In the upper levels, everything is still a mess with injured people being hauled into the infirmary and a lot of other people running around that Lance didn’t take notice while the Atlas jumps from wormhole to wormhole, putting as much space between them and Honerva as possible.

  Shiro watched Keith float past on the stretcher, pressing his lips together and reassuring Lance that he would be with them as soon as he’s sorted everything out on the bridge.

  Krolia has rushed down the corridor of the holding cells, far less composed than Lance has ever seen her. She didn’t say anything at first as she watched her son’s armour being peeled away, the claw of her thumb between her teeth. Keith opened his eyes upon Lance calling his name and then smiled at his mum. Only then did Krolia’s shoulders sag.

  “Thank you,” she says, quietly enough that only Lance hears her. She turns to face him with a small smile.

  Lance rubs the back of his neck. “I’d do it for anyone,” he says, trying to be modest but it’s the truth anyway.

  Krolia drops her voice even lower. “I know. That’s why he likes you.”

  Heat rises from his neck to his face because that. That right there sounds suspiciously like, ‘That’s why _I_ like you.’ That feels like an approval from a badass Galra warrior. For once, Lance is at a loss for words.

  Krolia looks at him strangely before she nods her head in the direction of the elevator. “Go take care of yourself. I’ll watch over Keith.”

  Reluctantly Lance leaves, more out of the need to oblige to Krolia’s unspoken request for time with her son than because he gives a damn about himself. The upper decks are still hectic. He makes himself go unnoticed as he slips into the infirmary but it’s packed with more Galra than humans, being treated by medics hurrying back and forth.

  Kosmo rests in the corner of the room, tended to by Hunk who squats next to him. Lance shuffles to the two.

  “Hey,” Hunk greets quietly. “How’s Keith?”

  “Stable for now but...” Hunk sees the words Lance doesn’t say. “How’s Kosmo? How are you, boy?”

  Kosmo puts his head into Lance’s outstretched hand, licking a couple of times. It might be the trick of the light or the coating of dust but his fur seems to have dimmed.

  “You’re just tired, aren’t you, boy?” Hunk coos, rubbing Kosmo’s hackles. Kosmo blinks at him, placing his chin back on his paws. Then Hunk turns to Lance again with a grimace, taking in his face. “Keith did all that?”

  “It wasn’t his fault.”

  “I know, I know. It’s him you gotta convince when he gets better. You should get them checked out so they don’t look...you know – get infected and stuff. Go see a medic.”

  Lance just shakes his head. There are people here who need medical attention far more than he does. If anything, he just wants some counselling because fighting Keith... That’s going to the top of the list of things that will keep him up at night if he lives through this war.

  He bids Hunk goodbye and shuffles out again. He thinks of trying to find Veronica but that will only worry her and then it’ll get back to their parents so he heads to his room instead to sort himself out and stop making people wince when they see him.

  He’s halfway there when he stops dead in his tracks. At first glance the man could pass off as a time-leakage, except for the silver scars across his skin that weren’t there before. He sits on one of the benches along the outside of the patients’ ward, far too big and too awkward in them, hands folded over his lap. No one pays any attention to him as they hurry about their business, absolutely none.

  Lance is not in the mood for this but he marches up nonetheless, hoping to tower over him. “Why are you out here? No, why are you _up_ here?”

  “Lance,” Lotor says, conveying something like surprise. “Shiro let me out to help... You don’t know yet.”

  Well, they haven’t exactly had time for a debriefing yet, clearly, because Lotor is out of his damned cell and Lance hasn’t a clue when the hell this happened or why.

  “Are you okay?” Lotor asks.

  “Don’t pretend you care.”

  He blinks up at Lance, and then his face falls. “Why will you not give me a chance to prove myself?”

  “I did that,” he hisses, bending to get right up Lotor’s face and he can’t help it. “Then you betrayed us. You betrayed _Allura_.”

  “Allura is willing to give me a second chance. I understand that as Allura’s friend and...lover, as her family, you have the right to not trust me after what I did but please, I mean every word when I say I am only trying to help.”

  Lance _really_ isn’t in the mood for this and right now, he won’t let Lotor be his problem. If that makes him selfish then fine. He’ll be selfish for a moment.

  He leaves Lotor in that too-small bench for someone else to take care of and continues on his merry way to his room. The satisfaction of slamming the door shut doesn’t come because they slide close automatically. He settles for thumping his head on it instead before trudging to the tiny conjoined bathroom and pulling out his first aid kit.  

  And no wonder people stared at him. He looks like _shit._ Dirt and grime covers every inch of him from the armour to his hair. In the corner of his left eye is a cut caked with crusts of dried blood that streak down the entire side of his face and some dark spots stain the chest plate of his armour. On his right jaw is a brilliant nebula of a bruise making appearance under all that dirt and some smaller ones on his cheekbone.

  He strips himself down and finds more bruises over his sides where armour doesn’t cover him, some on his hipbone and over his knuckles and fingers where he was kicked. But the scariest thing is the faint finger shaped ring around his neck.

  This isn’t how he’d fantasized about getting bruises on his neck.

  He sighs and just goes for a shower, carefully washing out his wounds which stings like a bitch. The cut is deeper than expected and it starts to bleed again so he pulls it close with a few Steri strips, hissing under his breath. This is going to scar. Whilst Lance isn’t generally opposed to scarring to show off his badass-ery, this is one that he wants to go without.

  He takes care of the bruises on his neck with concealer and it does a pretty decent job since they haven’t fully appeared. It’s more for Keith’s benefits than his own. Lance doesn’t know how much he remembers from that fight but he’ll do what he can to ease any amount of guilt.

  A knock comes from his door just as he finishes. Lance hollers but finds his voice croaking suddenly and pain flaring in his neck. He’s definitely going to have to check this one with the doctors.

  Allura ventures into the room and smiles a little when she sees him through the open bathroom door. Then the smile drops.

  “Oh, Lance,” she breathes as she steps into the tiny room. She takes in every inch of his face and blushes as her eyes follow down to the bottom of his ribs, extending down to the waistband of his pants.

  “Would you believe me if I said Keith looks worse?”

  She gives a look. “I saw Keith. I just came from him.”

  “Well, I... I got in a few good hits on him too.”

  She keeps giving the look before her face softens. “Lance, you don’t have to pretend. I know this is hurting you.”

  Lance exhales, shoulders drooping but he doesn’t know what to say. The weird tension still seems to sizzle between the foot-long space between them and he sort of wants to chalk it up to the fact that he’s half-naked and they’re in a tiny bathroom alone together but Lance just wants to sleep for eternity.

  Allura starts digging through the box on the counter and comes out with gauze and antiseptic cream. She starts properly dressing his wound, fingers nimbly working across his skin.

  Silence lapses, crushing in awkward waves. Why doesn’t this work? Why can’t conversation just flow the way they used to? What’s so different about now than it was before? They’re still fighting this same war. They’re still the same team, the same friends, the same ragtag family who got stuck in something none of them really knew how to deal with but trying their best together.

  On the Castle of Lions, he and Allura used to hang out in the common room, eating whatever leftover they had in the middle of the night and him braiding Allura’s hair. Sometimes, if they felt like being raucous, they’d blast their terrible singing through the entire Castle and make everyone else join in. That was before...Lotor.

  “I saw Lotor outside.”

  _Aaaand_ that brings on a whole other sort of tension. Allura’s fingers pause in packing up the stuff. Slowly, Lance goes to help her put things in.

  “I don’t know if you know this already but apparently Shiro let him out. I just...thought I should let you know so you wouldn’t freak out like I did.”

  “I know,” Allura answers, stacking packs of gauze neatly into one corner of the box. “He told me Shiro asked him to hold back one of the Alteans who broke out of their cell.”

  “They did that?”

  She nods, still not looking at him but he sees the furrow of eyebrows. “It seems like Keith wasn’t the only one Honerva was controlling. Lotor helped subdue Evlyn safely before she reached the bridge.”

  “How are they?”

  “They are back to themselves now but still under close watch.” Then she looks up. “Lance, I know how you feel about Lotor. Believe me, I feel the same. He hurt me more than anyone else but I’ve been reflecting.”

  “Allura...”

  “The day that everything went wrong, I acted impulsively. If only I had listened, things might be vastly different from what they are now.” She touches his jaw gently as a point. “ _I_ chose violence over peace.”

  “No, you-”

  The look she gives cuts him off effectively. “I know it is a great risk now to listen to him and I know I will be to blame if it proves to be a mistake again. But-”

  “I won’t stop you from talking to him, Allura.”

  She blinks in surprise as if she really thought Lance would’ve done that. He tries not to take offense because he _has_ been quite vocal about his dislike.

  He continues, “If you think it’s a good idea then all right. I don’t like him more but I’ll try to be nice to him.”

  She offers a tiny smile. “Thank you, Lance.”

  That ends the conversation right there. They pack away silently and Lance gets dressed.

  Call it bad timing or whatever but Veronica comes in without so much as a knock, probably not expecting to find anyone else in his room, much less _with_ him in the bathroom, door still open and his buttons not done up all the way.

  “Oh,” she says, stopping dead in her tracks. “Sorry, I probably should’ve knocked.”

  Allura’s blushes again deeply. “No, I was just helping Lance with his wound. I-I’m just about to leave.”

  And damn if that isn’t awkward when Allura scuttles out, leaving him alone with Veronica who immediately has a shit-eating grin.

  “Don’t,” Lance grits out. “I swear to God.”

  Veronica puts her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything. I’m only here to check up on my baby brother.”

  Lance finishes buttoning up his jacket, stepping out of his bathroom. “I’m fine. Thanks, Ron.”

  Veronica purses her lips. “You had me worried, Lance. You went dead silent for a long time.”

  “Right, yeah. I kind of lost my helmet.”

  She gestures at his face. “I can see that.”

  Lance chuckles a bit. “Maybe don’t tell Ma the whole story and I’ll avoid video calling them until I don’t look like this anymore.”

  Veronica comes closer, inspecting his face. Then her eyes land on his neck and narrows. “Why do you have concealer on your neck?”

  “What are you talking about.” It’s not a question. It’s a blatant lie.

  She gives the same look Allura gave him. “You think I don’t know what concealer looks like on my siblings’ necks?”

  Lance sighs and prays to every god in the universe when he asks, “Would you believe me if I said I had really wild night recently?”

  She crinkles her nose and then flicks his. “Don’t slander Allura’s name like that.”

  Okay, he probably should’ve thought better before blurting that out there. So Lance simply sighs again and lets Veronica be the first of few people to know the truth, lying on his bed shoulder to shoulder until they’re called for a debrief. She sees through every fabricated word and downplay of events but she doesn’t call him out on it and for that, Lance is thankful.

~

  There is a debrief.

  Then there is a _debrief_.

  The former consists of their usual group with Sam and Iverson and Colleen and Curtis and anyone else deemed appropriate, including commanders of the two Galra cruisers. This gets everyone up to date on vague descriptions of what happened.

  The latter consists of the paladins, Coran and Krolia. This is where Lance repeats the same story he told Veronica.

  “We have to get it out,” Pidge says when he finishes. “Not just Keith, the Alteans too.”

  Hunk agrees, “Honerva will probably try to use them again.”

  “It will be dangerous,” Coran says but he doesn’t disagree. “If Honerva sees that we’re extracting the creatures, she could do what she did to Tavo.”

  “But Tavo lived,” Pidge points out.

  “Well, it kind of did drain him a bit,” Hunk says. “I think he was in the infirmary for a couple of days.” At Pidge’s unimpressed look, he quickly adds, “I mean we should still do it. I’m just trying to be cautious here.”

  Allura worries at her bottom lip. When she speaks, she’s looking at Krolia. “Keith is already weak.”

  Krolia nods curtly. “I know the risks but Keith would want you to carry out the procedure. He is a danger to everyone the longer the creature stays in him.”

  Everyone kind of glances at Lance a little bit from the corner of their eyes.

  “We have to,” he says. For him, that’s never been a question up for discussion.

  Shiro asks, “Allura, do you think you can do this again?”

  Allura nods.

~

  They give Keith a quintent to rest. Lance knows it’s not much but he knows it’s already more than the time Keith would be willing to spend with a creature in his head. He doesn’t say it but judging from the fact that he won’t even let Hunk uncuff him to eat the pie he baked, it’s bothering him a lot. He doesn’t like that they’ve all sort of made camp outside of his cell (almost with blankets and stuff because Pidge is surprisingly a teddy bear) but he lets it happen.

  Eventually Keith makes the excuse that he’s tired and he wants to sleep.

  Pidge, Hunk and Shiro take the cue to leave but Lance lingers behind. Keith doesn’t meet his eyes, lying back on his cot, now dressed in Garrison issued hospital shirt and pants.

  “Hey,” Lance begins. “How you feelin’?”

  Keith’s eyes flicker to him for second and then it’s back to the ceiling with a frown. “Lance, I think it’s better if I don’t talk to you alone right now.”

  Lance flinches. “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  So Lance shuffles towards the trio who wait a few cells down. Shiro gives a sympathetic smile with a clap on his back.

~

  No one tells Keith what would really happen when a couple of Galran medics move him to the infirmary for a ‘test’ involving machines they cannot move down to the cells. It seems like Keith knows but he says nothing as he lies down and closes his eyes, deciding it’s best if he doesn’t see the doctors place electrodes on his chest. He lets himself be cuffed to the bed frame though Allura has a feeling it won’t do much if Honerva seizes control again. It is a barbaric sight, seeing Keith restrained like this but he refuses to have it any other way.

  Allura shuffles into the room, shoulders tense. A group of people crowd around the window outside, faces in varying degrees of concern. Lance and Krolia are among the closest.

  She hands the containment unit to one of the Galran medics, nodding in confirmation to begin the process. She places her hands on Keith’s temples, feels the clench of his jaw under her fingers. Then she closes her eyes.

  She’s done this before but more out of necessity than will. Then, the creature was just on the surface of Tavo’s mind, already taken control of his body. Now she will have to dig. She follows her father’s guide, slowly sensing her way around but it’s a barren void, all darkness and no warmth.

  “Keith,” she whispers. “You have to let me in. Think about the entity.”

  Keith is hesitant and understandably so. Allura lets him take his time in bringing up a fuzzy memory of Honerva leaning over him, the creature bobbing around in the glass case in her hands. 

  “You’re doing well,” she tells him.

  He thinks about a room, dark around the corners, and a boy and wolf standing in the middle of it. Allura feels the fear and the horror and the helplessness as a blade sinks into the floor and beneath it all, she feels a stir. Keith cuts it off.

  “I know you’re scared, and I’m really sorry but you have to keep going, Keith.”

  A tick in his temples and Keith relents, letting rise a memory of Lance, battered and bleeding with a hand around his throat, eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

  That’s all it takes.

  The creature lurches at the same time Keith screams, bloodcurdling and thrashing on the bed. So many cries of, “Allura!” and “Keith!” fill the room but she shuts them all out, forces Keith’s head to still between her fingers and with her mind, she forces the creature to rise. It lashes under her control but she contains it, makes it obey her will.

  Keith falls still and machines around them beep wildly.

  Then the creature leaves his body.

  The medic is there, scooping it into the containment unit before it can cause damage.

  Allura is pushed back as medics surround Keith, defibrillators ready. She’s frozen in her spot as the doctors tear his shirt down the middle and start the procedure. She’s been through this before with Tavo and she knows the doctors will save Keith but what if the entity did something different to him? What if their biology affects them differently? She keeps her eyes glued on that screen with a flat green line.

  She doesn’t dare breathe until a bump breaks that line. A sigh of relief passes in unison.

  “Holy fuck,” Lance exhales quietly.

  Allura looks around to see that half the crowd has filed into the room, where they probably shouldn’t be. Surprisingly enough, it’s Krolia who ushers them all out to let the doctors work when Keith’s heartbeats are a stable rhythm. Lance is the most reluctant to leave but Allura takes his hand and leads him outside.

  She remembers this moment like she’s already lived it, the moment they step outside and Lance turns to watch Keith through the window, bruise and bandaid and all. She remembers every word she’s supposed to say and wonders what will happen if she doesn’t say them. Will the course of their future change? For better or worse? Is this like one of Slav’s predicted multi-reality events?

  But then she truly sees Lance’s face, the concern and the distress, and it’s a kick in her chest so hard that she thinks she might need a defibrillator too. In the end, she can’t think of saying anything but what she’s supposed to.

  “He’ll be okay, Lance. He’s a fighter.”

  Lance nods wordlessly. Allura hugs him before she really knows she’s doing it, pulling him in her arms. He stills for a moment before he hugs her back. Then more arms surround them as Pidge, Hunk and Shiro join in. Allura catches Krolia’s eyes and a sort of unspoken understanding passes between them before she joins in briefly.

  Allura lets herself indulge in this moment, just for a short while.

  Then begins the mission to free her people from Honerva’s control.

~

  Keith is sick of the bed. So done. He’s been bedridden for twenty-hours since the extraction and that’s enough. He wants nothing to do with it anymore so fuck the next seven quintents more that he’s supposed to stay in the infirmary. They might not even have that much time. He’s been thinking too much of too many things and the damned beds don’t help.

  People come in to visit every couple of hours and keep him updated on things happening and things that happened while he was ‘away’, to sugar-coat it. Honerva has apparently done something to Black but neither Shiro – who knows the physical condition of Black – nor Allura – who knows the metaphysical condition of Black – can find what the witch did.

  Keith keeps trying to remember anything he could about Honerva’s mind when he had the entity in him but always draws up blank. Surely, he keeps reasoning with himself, if Honerva could see through Keith then he could’ve seen through her. It’s to no avail like there’s literally nothing there on the end of the line.

  By the end of the twenty-sixth hour, Keith has had it. He makes the excuse that he wants to shower but later he finds himself on the observatory deck where no one really has the time to go, hiding away from anyone who might drag him back. Kosmo is curled next to him, rumbling softly as Keith runs his fingers through his fur. The fact that Kosmo even wants to be near him at all after what he did is a relief in itself so him letting Keith _touch_ him is nothing short of a miracle.

  Kosmo doesn’t notice Keith’s loud mind as he noses at a hydro suction pebble he’s yet again stolen from Colleen – either that or Colleen gave it to him as a gift.

  Suddenly the door whooshes and whoever that is, Keith knows he’s screwed.

  “Keith?” Kosmo perks because that’s Lance’s voice. Oh, Keith is extra screwed.

  Lance asks, “What are you doing here? You’re meant to be in bed.”

  “Hey...”

  God, it’s so hard to look at him. Every single injury on him is Keith’s fault. That ring of bruises around his throat is his fault, a horrifying reminder that no amount of concealer is going to cover up anymore now that it’s all red and purple. He’d been so close to losing him.

  Lance comes to sit next to him. Not on the other side of Kosmo, no; right next to him so their shoulders would brush if Keith sways a little bit. Lance raises an eyebrow.

  “So? Why are you out of bed?”

  “I just don’t want to sleep,” he mumbles. “I... I keep dreaming about that day.”

  The admission hangs in the air. They haven’t had a chance to talk properly yet and Keith doesn’t even know where to begin. A sorry won’t fix this. He hurt Kosmo, he nearly _killed_ Lance. Being flanked by the both of them right now is both a curse and a twisted sense of relief that he shouldn’t have, not with Lance still harbouring more bruises than he can see.

  “Keith, I don’t blame you,” Lance says softly, seeing where Keith’s eyes are. “You were under Honerva’s control. If anything, I want to kill her for doing that to you.”

  Keith tears his gaze away from his neck and directs it at the floor. “That doesn’t excuse what I did and what I said.”

  “But you didn’t mean any of it, right?”

  “No, never.” Not even when they’d first got flung into space. For all his taunts and jabs, he’s never thought Lance was unworthy of his place on the team. Never Lance. “But you don’t understand. I was so close, Lance. That’s all I see when I close my eyes because I couldn’t do anything to stop myself from doing it.”

  He feels his hands start to shake so he folds them beneath his arms before Lance notices.

  “But you did,” Lance says, leaning forward.

  _I love you._ Heat rises to his cheeks at the memory but it’s stupid, pathetic. He shouldn’t have _needed_ Lance to say those words to be able regain control of his body. He should’ve been strong enough to not hurt him in the first place.

  “Keith,” Lance breathes. “You can look at me.”

  So Keith does. For the first time, he looks at Lance properly and takes in the purple spots on his face and throat, the bandaid on his face. He takes in the small smile that spreads warmth through Keith’s chest.

  Then Lance springs forward, throwing his arms around Keith’s body to pull him in tightly. Keith stops breathing for a moment before he realises Lance is hugging him. Again. Keith gingerly places his hands on his back, still shaking but drawing in the warmth and that rare feeling of safety. He presses his nose into the junction of Lance’s shoulder, breathing in slow. It is numbing and intoxicating but it quiets the noise in his mind.

  “ _You_ don’t understand, Keith. I...I thought I’d lose you for good this time.” His voice breaks at the end and it lingers.

  Kosmo joins in the embrace, putting his head on both their laps and they stay like that for seemingly forever, clinging to each other, but also not long enough. In that moment Keith can bear to think maybe he could be forgiven one day.

  “Besides,” Lance says when they finally pull away but arms still brushing. That point of contact alone continues to throw Keith’s world off its axis. “It’s not all bad.”

  He frowns.

  Lance smiles again, lop-sided and adorable.  “I got to fly Black.”

  “But you didn’t tell anyone.” Everyone thinks it was Keith who flew them back, including Shiro. “I thought they’d all know by now.”

  Lance shrugs. “I kind of forgot, to be honest. It’s more important that you’re alright than me flying Black.”

  Keith narrows his eyes, not quite believing the words coming out of Lance’s mouth. “I can tell them if you want,” he offers.

  Lance shakes his head. “No. I don’t need them to know. _I_ know and...for once, that’s enough for me.” With that he makes himself at home and lies down on his back, stretching out his legs and folding his hands behind his head.

  “You’re- You’re going to stay?”

  Lance blinks. “Oh. Um. Do you want me to go?”

  “No!” he says quickly. Just to make his point, he follows Lance’s example and lies down too, Kosmo shifting to allow him to unfold his legs. “Of course not. I just thought you might want to sleep or something. Or spend some time with Allura.”

  “Allura,” Lance repeats absently, looking up into space. “Right, yeah.”

  “Is everything okay between you two? I heard that Lotor was outside for a while.”

  Lance nods. “Yeah. Allura wanted me to give him a chance so I promised I’ll be nice to him. Not that I’ve talked to him since he went back into the cell.”

  “Do you, maybe, want to talk about it?”

  Another shrug. “I’m probably just being irrational.”

  “You’re not.”

  Yet another shrug. “I don’t want to be an ass.”

  “What?”

  “I’m jealous, okay?” Lance snaps, turning to face him. “And I keep telling myself that I shouldn’t think like that but I have a feeling that...Allura isn’t completely over Lotor. I know it’s stupid and it’s insulting. I’m sure that when she does go to talk to him, they’re purely talking about war stuff and Honerva but it just-” He stops himself and exhales deeply. When he speaks again, he’s much quieter, “It kind of hurts.”

  Keith nods but he doesn’t know what else to say. Lance and Allura’s relationship is one he shouldn’t make assessments on given his own feelings and he’s not sure what Lance wants to hear or if he wants to hear anything.

  When he fails to say anything, Lance sighs. “It’s okay. I know you probably don’t understand.”

  “I understand, Lance,” he whispers, turning his eyes back to the stars. “I know what it feels like to watch someone I love with another person.” Keith can’t look at him but he feels Lance’s stare.

  “What did you do?” he asks.

  “I told myself that I’m happy as long as he’s happy until it became true. I told myself that he deserves all the love in the world even if it’s not mine.”

  And there it is; Keith’s heart wide open for Lance to pick out what he wants. If he decides that he doesn’t then, it has to be okay. But the selfish part of him hopes and hopes and hopes for Lance to just _look_. He’s showing a part of him of which people only know the bits that leak through the locked doors and he wants Lance to _see._

  _I’m right here_.

  “It works?” Lance asks, oblivious.

  Of course he is.

  Keith turns to find him really close. His blue eyes shine even in the dim light of the observatory, reflecting the stars above. His freckles seem to glow on his skin or maybe that’s just Keith seeing him in a way he sees no one else. He swallows thickly. “I love him enough. So yes, it works.”

  “And you let him go, just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “Did you fight for him?”

  Did he? He thinks about, and then comes to a conclusion, “No, I didn’t. I was too afraid of my own feelings to face them and by the time that I could, it’s too late.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “Only when he’s not happy.”

  Lance goes quiet. Thoughts seem to churn behind those eyes, stormy and tumultuous. Keith gives him some time before he asks, “Did that help?”

  “Honestly no, it probably made it worse. But I’m glad you shared this with me, Keith.” Despite the gravity of the subject, Lance gives him another smile.

  Keith returns it readily because he’s weak and he’d do anything bring a smile on Lance’s lips.

  In silent, uniform agreement they both turn to the sky again, conversation lulling. Kosmo has fallen asleep on Keith’s legs, rumbling with soft snores.

  It’s a minute before Lance says, “Do I get to know who this per-”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Boo.”

  “Just look after yourself, Lance.”

  Keith revels in the steadiness of the moment; him and Lance and Kosmo and the stars. Yes, the guilt still eats at him and no, he hasn’t forgiven himself. It’s the thought that he hasn’t completely fucked up that keeps him tethered to this momentary peace, even though he apparently tried his damned hardest to screw himself over by _confessing_.

  This ship is full of oblivious idiots.

  “Keith,” Lance says slowly enough to make him worry.

  “...Yeah?”

  “Did- Did that star just disappear?”

  “Where?” Which sounds like a stupid question to ask for something that’s apparently just vanished but there are a lot of stars out there in this section of space. He needs to be more specific.

  Lance points up, nudging closer so that Keith can follow his finger. “There.”

  It’s a cluster of stars in various sizes but nothing seems to be missing.

  “Maybe it’s twinkling?” Keith suggests.

  “No, that’s not it.”

  He sounds so sure himself that Keith keeps watching. A few minutes later Lance cries, “There! That’s another one gone.”

  Keith isn’t seeing it. “I’m not seeing it,” he makes it known.

  “Damn it, Keith. Just watch.”

  He obeys, keeping his eyes trained on that cluster. A minute passes, and then two. Then five. Then it happens. One of the smaller stars blink out like a light bulb, there one second and gone the next. He would’ve missed it if he blinked.

  He looks at Lance, who’s already looking at him, wide-eyed.

  Keith swears. “We have to find Shiro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGA!
> 
> From this point on, this story is going to be an even bigger hot mess because I don't know if I can take it in the direction that I want to without being as under-explained and plot-holey as canon but I also don't want to throw away all that foreshadowing. In any case, I promise to try my best. Thanks for reading!


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